


Metal Guard Dog

by Dicax_Asina



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is already a deviant, Cyberpunk AU, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, Memory Transfer, Post failed revolution AU, Reader is also a drug dealer, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 40,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dicax_Asina/pseuds/Dicax_Asina
Summary: The year 2064:  Cyberlife has developed a way of transferring one's memories to Androids. With more and more people giving out ungodly amounts of money to buy themselves the perfect body, poverty for those who cannot afford such luxury is growing as strong as ever. (Y/n) is one of them.Luckily, she has just found a 30 year old Android model on the streets, and is more than willing to do whatever it takes to repair it and transfer her memories onto it. Little does she know that it's the former Deviant Hunter himself.





	1. Chapter 1

All systems operational  
Jan. 22nd, 2064  
Time: 8:34 PM  
No signal, additional data unavailable

Connor blinked, adjusting to the white light that shone into his eyes. 

Everything about him was sore, slow, and unresponsive, as if his whole being was plagued by something similar to rust, making every movement heavy and difficult.

The air was thick, stagnant — just like his surroundings. Dark grey concrete walls, with a rather impressive amount of computers and other machinery sprinkled around the room.

"Aah, shit." A deep, gruff voice mumbled, followed by languid steps.

Connor was laying on an operating table of some sorts, a lamp hanging above him.

Connor heard something shuffle, the sound of a limp body being dragged. That was exactly the case: right beside him, on another table, laid a girl, with messy (h/c) hair with neon blue tips, stripped down to a dark olive tank top and black, baggy pants.

Something was...attached to the back of her nape, digging in deep into the skin, hooked around flesh, her blood staining the table. A young man approached her passed out form, lifting it up, and propping her against him. He removed the object on her nape, discarding of it on the table carelessly, then began running his hands over her body.

Upon closer inspection, the Android realized that the 'young man' had similar components to himself, and that only the girl showed traces of a biological heartbeat and steady breathing.

He heard the rustling of thin plastic foil, realizing that the other Android had stopped groping the woman, and was instead focusing on a small bag he had pulled out of her pocket.

The body of the girl was quickly discarded, left to collapse onto the floor, the bag being the machine's focus. A smile settled on its lips as it opened the small bag's zip and dipped its finger into the fine, purple powder inside, then licked it off.

A certain numbness and pain settled in Connor's abdomen, as if he had watched something disturbing. All his senses were tingling with danger— something was wrong. And he just knew he had to step in.

He scanned his surroundings further, then began preconstructing his plan. A weapon, most certainly a gun, though a model he couldn't exactly recognize, was set on a tray of various instruments, right beside the table he was on. That could make for a good start.

He saw his own, schematically drawn silhouette stumble to his feet, take the gun from the table, and aim it at the other android.

『 ▹COMPUTE 』

He rose to his feet, ripping out the object stuck inside the nape of his neck, a painful, hot electric current coursing through him as he did. Involuntarily, the deviant let out a wince.

That was more than enough to gain the other Android's attention.

"Oh shit. Oh shit, it's fucking alive!" He exclaimed, dropping the bag he had been holding. His eyes darted to the gun, at the same time as Connor's, before their gazes connected again. 

The RK800 model had one thing in mind, yet his body was disobeying. He was slow, painfully so, however had the advantage of being in closer proximity to the weapon. He stumbled towards the tray of utensils, accidentally knocking it over as he picked up the gun.

The stranger had come dangerously close, a rough 50 centimeters away. Connor was quick enough to aim the gun at the other Android's head.

"Back off!" He barked, and was pleased to find out that his voice hadn't been altered. 

"Alright, fuck, don't shoot!" The stranger took a reluctant step backwards, raising his hands. His eyes were blown wide in fear, staring directly at Connor.

"Where are we?" The RK800 asked firmly, still aiming the weapon at the man. He deactivated the safety lock upon realizing that the stranger refused to cooperate, which was enough to convince the other man.

"Detroit, Michigan." He answered shakily. "We're...underground."

That somewhat soothed Connor. He was still in a familiar place. Below it, technically, but still. As soon as he would manage to get out of...whatever bunker he was in at the moment, he'd just have to find Hank, and everything would return back to normal.

Unless...well, unless his inner clock was right. He really hoped it wasn't.

"What year is it?" He continued his interrogation.

"2064."

The feeling that settled in his stomach was cold and heavy, strikingly similar to one of detective Reed's punches. Shock?

He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before looking back at the stranger, who was slowly dropping his arms.

"Hey, hands where I can see them!"

"Same goes for you." A female voice firmly demanded from behind his back, and before he could react, something cold, metallic was pressed to his back, right between his shoulder blades.

Only a millisecond later, a heavy, burning electric current flooded his entire body, strong in his knees, elbows and wrists, causing him to wince in pain and drop the gun. All his synthetic muscles tensed, rock hard and unmovable.

The woman from behind him was quick enough to take the weapon before he or the other Android could react.

"(Y/n), thank god. I thought this thing was gonna fucking kill m-"

"Shut up, Zlatko. I know you took my portion of Axyfomodium." She gestured to the small bag with purple contents that he had dropped seconds ago. "Give it back."

Connor moved one arm to prop himself up against the floor and get up, however was surprised to find out that another, burning electric current coursed through his spine as soon as he did. What was going on with him?!

"No, that's my payment!" The other Android retorted, squeezing his fist around said object. 

"Did I stutter, Zlatko?" She hissed, then wanted to remove the safety switch, only to realize someone already had. Connor had. Her eyes went wide, immediately focusing on the chocolate-eyed Android. "Who deactivated the switch?"

"I...did." Connor forced out, even his jaw refusing to move. Whatever the electric pain in his body was, it refused to let him make even the smallest movement.

"Holy shit, I...It's a deviant."


	2. Chapter 2

"Yes, it is. That's why the memory transfer didn't work." Zlatko explained, slowly approaching the young woman.

"Woah." She let her arm fall limply to her side, only having eyes for Connor, who was still kneeling on the floor, unable to move. "I captured a deviant!"

She crouched down beside him, not daring to touch him, but instead, reached for one of the tools from the table Connor had kicked over. Curiously, she placed it under his chin, tilting his head upwards to have a better look at his face. If there was one thing the deviant was sure of, it had to be that he did certainly not like her staring him down like that. However he was in no position to protest, seeing as he was unable to move and even talk. The best thing he could do was hold her gaze, hoping to intimidate her.

"They're dangerous machines, (y/n)." The other Android explained, putting his hand atop her forearm. "You should leave it with m-"

She removed his hand with a snarl, dropping the tool to the floor.

"Leave it with you? Fuck no. Do you know for how much I could sell it on the black market?" She grinned, resting the hand with the gun on her hip."It's like finding a unicorn or something."

"You've never even seen a deviant before. You have no idea what they're like. I should be the one to keep it."

"I'm the one who found it!" She retorted, immediately forgetting her fascination and positioning herself between Connor's kneeling form and the Android.

"And I'm the one who fixed it."

"And I'm the one pointing a gun at your fucking head, Zlatko." There it was again, that certain edge in her voice, allowing no backtalk. "You were supposed to fix it and transfer my memories onto it, but you failed the latter. So you get...let's see, I'll give you half the bag of Axyfomodium for free. You only fulfilled half of the deal. And that's final."

"You fucking bi-"

"Reconsider your situation before you open your mouth." She insisted, stepping closer to the Android and loading the gun with a cheeky "click".

"Agh, fuck. Alright, fine, take your fucking piece of plastic and leave."

"Pleasure making deals with you." She sneered, still holding the gun pointed at the Android as she strode over to the opposite corner of the room. There, she picked up a belt that held various objects Connor failed to identify, tying it around her waist securely. After that, she put on a dark, long coat, and pulled up her hood, storing the gun inside one of the big pockets. She looked around the corner once again, then grunted in annoyance.

"Where are my Horomas?" She asked sharply, turning to look at the Android. Connor could only furrow his brows, processing the foreign word.

//Searching for 'horomas'.

//No results. Did you mean: horoma ?

//Searching for 'horoma'.

//lat. n., means 'vision'.

"Was hoping you wouldn't mind." Zlatko grunted, then buried a hand inside his pocket, pulling out a pair of transparent glasses. "Here."

He threw them at her, and the girl was quick enough to catch them mid air, then put them on. The glass flickered neon purple as soon as she blinked a few times.

"Well then, I won't be burdening you any longer." Her gaze rested on Zlatko, then finally switched over to Connor. She slithered a hand inside her pocket, pulling out a small remote, and pressing on a button. 

Connor almost collapsed face-first onto the floor as soon as she did, his legs going inexplicably soft.

"Follow me, deviant. I enabled your leg movements." She nodded towards the door, and patiently waited for Connor to get up on his feet, stumbling towards her and out of the room. As he was walking, he preconstructed various escape routes, however all of them ended with his neutralization. There was no escape.

At least not until he'll get rid of the device she was using to control him. And that was a challenge on its own, considering his torso was still immobilized. The wonders of technology, he supposed.

As Connor passed by her, out of the bunker, he noticed her quickly grab something from a coat hanger by the door before following him outside and closing the door behind her. A coat, similar to hers: long, black, and hooded.

"Later, Zlatko!" She called out, however her gaze didn't leave Connor for not even a millisecond. 

He could only follow her obediently, through dark, labyrinth-like corridors. Finally, they got to a staircase, light at shining at the end of it. Completely forgetting his situation, Connor rushed towards it, eager to feel fresh air blow over his synthskin, and to see the familiar streets of Detroit again.

"Hey, hey, hey. I can't have you going out into the public like that, the DPD'll be after us as soon as I blink." She explained, and nodded at Connor's clothes.

Once white, now dark grey, torn shirt hung over his torso loosely, with no trace of his old Cyberlife tie, nor jacket. His pants were doing a tad better, nothing but a rupture across his left thigh and some broken stitches.

"I'll allow arm movement, but if you try anything funny, I won't hesitate to incapacitate you. Are we clear?" Her voice was sharp, just like her venomous gaze, and Connor could almost feel a chill running down his spine. He blinked, in the hopes of it being enough of an answer.

"Good."

She slithered her hand inside her pocket again, pressed another button, and the tension in Connor's shoulders disappeared.

"Lift your arms for me." She instructed, then took the jacket she had stolen from what the Android called Zlatko. He could only obey and watch her dress him in it, the button up the cloth. "That's better."

She smiled softly and reached to pull up his hood. "Looks good on you." She concluded, then looked at Connor's disgruntled expression with a sigh. "I'll allow jaw movements, if that's what you want." She finally added.

Connor blinked again.

The electric current in his face disappeared, however returned in his arms and torso.

"What's your name, deviant?"

"Connor. My name is Connor."


	3. Chapter 3

"(Y/n)." She added, a satisfied smile tugging on her lips as she adjusted the stolen coat on him, then looked up at the deviant. "Nice to meet you, Connor. What model are you?"

"I'm an RK800."

"Year of release?"

"2038."

She clasped a hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening in shock and happiness.

"Holy shit, 2038?!" (Y/n) blurted out, a tad too loudly, quickly realizing her mistake and clearing her throat before whisper-shouting. "You're worth a fortune!"

He furrowed his brows, head involuntarily tilting. "I'm aware."

"No, not like 8000 dollars or whatever the price for an Android used to be back in the day. You're worth like-" (Y/n) stopped, mumbling something under her breath, then counting on her fingers. "Like 12 times that price."

Twelve? Connor asked himself, his LED flickering red, then amber. That...that certainly was a lot of money. More than enough to buy a somewhat decent residence, too. (Y/n) wasn't planning on selling him was she?

As if she had read his mind, she huffed in amusement.

"I'm not sure if I'll sell you. We'll see, I guess." She nodded towards the exit. "C'mon."

Connor was more than eager to follow her outside the bunker, up the grey concrete stairs, out into the streets. 

He had to blink for a few seconds, his eyes unaccustomed to suddenly encountering light, and his processors whirring as he suddenly received signal.

Weather: Cloudy with a chance of rain  
Location: Detroit, Michigan, Ferndale Station

He looked behind himself, realizing that the so-called bunker he had been inside had the sign 'underground' hung up above it, however covered in black graffiti. How peculiar.

"Try not to get lost." (Y/n) joked with a smirk, and waited for Connor to marvel at his surroundings. The streets were filled with people of all kinds: some human, some humanoid, some human with certain peculiar alterations. The strangest part? A big majority of them had Android components.

Had the Android revolution succeeded, in spite of Markus getting shot on Jericho, and in spite of Connor killing himself after Amanda resumed control? Had his people made it, in spite of all the circumstances and obstacles thrown at them? 

Warmth in the pit of his stomach erupted, because he realized just how lucky he was to experience all of this. To live to see the day his people were free, and not only that, but practically flooding the streets, coming in all shapes and forms!

A girl with long, sharp ears (elf ears, Connor realized) and pink, perfect synthhair passed by him, offering the Android a smile.

He had the sudden urge to smile too, hell, even laugh, shout in utter bliss, because maybe he hadn't exactly contributed to all of this all that much, but they were free. His people were free. Free to-

Like a fire, or a lightning striking his body, Connor could only wince in pain at the sensation that coursed through him. What was happening?

"I told you not to get lost, damnit. Electroshocks get activated as soon as you're not in a five meter radius of me." (Y/n) warned, sharp voice whispering from behind him as the pain faded. She extended her hand to help him get up, then tugged on his wrist.

"Good. Now move. And stay close." She gave him a light push. Connor looked at her expression, scanning her face, both saving it in his memory and identifying her unusually high stress level.

The next few minutes were silent, and consisted of Connor following her through busy streets, squeezing through ungodly huge crowds of people and Androids, occasionally stopping to marvel at the neon city lights above him. Everything was so different compared to the world he had once known. Androids were all around him, one more vibrant than the other, or more strange. Some had reptilian skin, others had cat ears on the top of their head, others instead, were covered in nothing but fur, only keeping a basic humanoid bone structure. Some even looked like anime, cartoon or comic book characters.

Another soft current went through him, and he realized that must mean he was already drifting a tad too far from (y/n). He scanned the crowd for her and found her quickly, dark coat fluttering behind her as she hurried into a narrow, empty alley.

"Where exactly are we headed?" Connor dared to ask only after scanning her body for stress levels, and realizing that they had significantly dropped after she had gotten the both of them out of the crowd. A good opportunity to get to know the person that held him hostage, quite possibly even look for weaknesses.

"To the bus station, and then home." Home. A peculiar word, Connor thought, mainly because the only thing that came to mind when he heard her say it was Hank's house. She paused in her tracks, then looked at him over her shoulder. (Y/n) was quick to pick up on the nostalgic, bittersweet glint in his eyes. "My home, I mean. It's not much, but... I hope you like dogs."

"You have a dog?" Connor questioned, the image of Sumo popping up in his mind. He quickly caught up with (y/n), walking beside her.

"Yeah, his name is Xylo. He's a synthdog." Connor's smile dropped as soon as she revealed its nature. 

"So an Android dog?"

"I wouldn't...use the term Android if I were you. They're only used for labour, and it's kinda weird to mention them in a casual conversation."

Casual conversation? What about their whole interaction was casual? And why wouldn't they? Weren't almost all the people from the crowds they had wandered through machines?

"What you have seen were humans. They were humans that transferred their memories and consciousness onto Synthetic bodies." She added, as if she had read his mind. "Or as some like to call them, Mechas." (Y/n) added with a disgruntled scoff.

"I understand." Connor nodded meaningfully, and bit his lip. Maybe this wasn't the world he had hoped for, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hop in." (Y/n) looked at Connor and gestured to the open bus doors. Aware that he lacked any other options, the deviant could only obey.

The bus closed seconds after (y/n) and a few other people had gotten on too, a low rumble vibrating below their feet as they started moving. The vehicle was strangely empty, but then again, it was starting to get late. Connor's inner clock estimated it to be roughly 9 pm, and the dawn that shone through the bus windows and caused him to squint only confirmed it.

This reminded Connor of his time as a machine, when he took a bus to Ferndale station to find Jericho. When Markus had been the one to finally turn him deviant, and then die only minutes after that. How he had been asked to resume control of the Android revolution, only to be forced to kill himself after Cyberlife revealed it had all been going according to plan.

The moment he put that gun under his chin, he hadn't ever thought he'd see daylight again. Yet here he was, 30 years later, the dawning sun warming his cheeks. 

"Stay close, I've got some business to take care of." (Y/n) interrupted his thoughts, waiting for Connor to confirm. After he had given her a firm nod, she switched to staring at the floor, her neon purple glasses flickering with all sorts of colors, shapes, numbers and words flashing on the lenses. (Y/n) seemed to be controlling them with nothing but her eyes, Connor concluded after a few minutes of watching her.

What an interesting devic-

"Heey, big boy. Where ya headed to?"

Connor furrowed his brows upon hearing the smoky, dulcet voice whisper the words closer to his left ear than he was comfortable with. He wanted to move away, only to realize that (y/n) had also disabled his leg movement.

Shit.

"Home." He answered, and for the first time, a cold, icy current tugged at the wires in his abdomen, and his thirium pump skipped a beat. Fear. He couldn't move, and (y/n) was distracted by her device. He was, quite literally, at that person's mercy.

"Who you with, that Bio girl?" The voice continued, finally stepping in front of Connor so that he could observe them. Light purple skin, green, shoulder length hair, neither male nor female features. Android components. And they nodded towards (y/n).

"Bio?" As in natural? Connor wondered. A lot of strange terms seemed to be thrown around on the streets of Detroit.

"Human." The purple-skinned Android explained, a long, slim tongue with two ends slithering out from between their teeth. "You're really old fashioned, aren't you?"

"Yes, I...prefer oldschool terms." Connor rushed to cover up his mistake. If he was friendly enough to this...person, they might just be willing to help him escape. "What is your name?"

"Huxley." They smiled softly and reached up to Connor's head. For a second, he failed to understand what they were trying to do, a shiver crawling down his spine. "An LED? Classic, yet original. Interesting choice of features."

"Thank you."

Why had so much saliva suddenly gathered in his mouth, and why were his synthmuscles tense, in spite of the current already going through him because of (y/n)'s device? He swallowed, hoping the small gesture had gone by unnoticed. It hadn't.

"I take it you like the 30s?"

"Yes."

"What's your name, pretty boy?" Huxley tilted their head, wide grin playing on their unnatural features.

"My name is Con-"

"-rad. His name is Conrad. And he's with me." (Y/n) stepped between him and the stranger. "Now piss off, you fucking Mecha."

"Make me, Bio girl." Huxley hissed back, a smile settling on their features. "Your pathetic human body can't even land a punch on mine."

They grabbed (y/n) by the collar of her black coat and rammed her against two bus seats. (Y/n) had to stand on her tiptoes when the Android lifted her up. She only let out a wince, however her eyes didn't leave the Android's face, not even for a second. Connor could've sworn he saw something flash on the lenses.

"Alabama, 14th of November, 2039."

"Wait is th-" Huxley's grip on her jacket faltered as (y/n) was slowly dropped back down.

"Your birth date and place, yeah." A satisfied smirk settled on the girl's features. "But there's much more where that came from. Interested in hearing about your criminal record?"

"You fucking bitch!" Huxley took a step backwards, jaw clenched as they continued looking at (y/n), perhaps in a hopeless attempt to stare her down.

She only slithered a hand inside her pocket, taking a quick look outside the bus window.

"Guess that's our stop, Conrad. C'mon."

She had enabled his leg movement and nodded for him to follow. Seconds later, the both of them had hopped off the bus, (y/n) confidently leading the way.

The streets were already flooded with darkness, and Connor found himself walking as close to the streetlights as he could. Was it some sort of defense mechanism? He didn't know.

"How did you do that?" He found the courage to ask only a few minutes of walking.

"Well, Conrad," She offered him a meaningful smile. "A good magician never reveals the secret behind their tricks. Especially not on the streets. Hold your questions back, and I'll answer some once I get the both of us home safely."

That was disappointing.

Did (y/n) have some sort of trust issues? Paranoia? Or maybe he was the problem? Should he try a different approach? Maybe Connor could try being more stern, or aggressive, just like he used to when it came to interrogations. Though he was in no position to pull off any power games, at least not at the moment. He'd have to get rid of (y/n)'s device first.

"Well, here we are." (Y/n) stopped suddenly, and Connor looked around. They were beside the shore, staring out onto the immaculate surface of water. Lake St. Clair, he noted. Though he had no idea why she was gesturing towards the body of water.

"I'm afraid I cannot follow, (y/n)."

"Let me reiterate. I live in that boat, right over there."


	5. Chapter 5

Her keys rattled, hitting against the wooden surface of the small door. From the other side of it, Connor could hear the clear, yet loud, playful sounds of an instrument. A xylophone? 

Was (y/n) living with someone? He found that hard to believe, considering the rather modest size of the boat, and its state.

"Welcome to my home, Connor." She smiled childishly, then turned the knob, ducking to fit inside the cramped space. The deviant decided to wait outside until she had properly entered.

A pitter patter of metal against wood, that was a sound he knew far too well. (Y/n)'s excited, strangely dulcet tone followed:

"Xylo! Good boy, come here!" 

Curiously, Connor rested one hand above the doorframe to allow him to bend down and have a look inside the cramped space.

(Y/n) was once again crouching, in spite of not needing to, and patting her thighs excitedly. The xylophone's sounds from earlier escalated and increased in rhythm, and Connor noticed a small, quadrupedal machine approach the young woman faster than he could analyze it.

She took the machine in her arms, holding it in a loving embrace against her chest before turning around to face Connor.

"Come on in, Xylo doesn't bite."

She was cradling a dog, Connor finally concluded. One side of its face, and almost its entire body were covered in white, fluffy fur. The other half half of the face and its left shoulder lacked it, presenting a clean, grey, shiny surface, and blue cables where the shell was missing. 

And its bark wasn't, well, exactly a bark. The small creature had been the source of the xylophone sounds.

Connor found himself involuntarily rushing inside the boat too, carefully laying his hands atop the mechanical dog's head.

The small machine moved its snout to brush against Connor's palm, peacefully closing its eyes as its tail still continued wagging erratically.

"He's really cute, isn't he?" (Y/n) smiled, first at her pet, then at Connor.

"Yes." Connor let a lopsided smile slip, unable to hold it back. This creature, machine, whatever it was, it felt real. Its fur was warm, just like Sumo's used to be, he remembered bitterly.

"Wanna hold him while I lock the door?"

"W-Wait-" She didn't wait for an answer, instead only placed him in Connor's arms, who was slowly becoming a confused mess. He held the mechanical pet like a vase, or something extremely fragile, (after all, it was so small!) trying his best to make it confortable. 

The dog let out another cheerful ding! , propping its front legs against Connor's chest and climbing up so that its paws and head were rested on his shoulder.

"(Y/n)-!" Connor called out almost desperately, moving his hands up to the small animal's ribcage in a hopeless attempt to keep it from falling.

"You can put him down now, the door's locked."

As slowly and carefully as he could, the deviant picked up the pet from his left shoulder, trying his best not to hurt it or anything of the sort while lowering it to the ground.

"It's just that he always goes crazy at night, so I can't have him leave the ship. Especially since he's not waterproof anymore either."

"Anymore?" Had she modified him? A shudder ran down Connor's spine at the thought. What if she wanted to modify him as well?

"I found him in a dumpster and promised Zlatko half a baggie of Axyfomodium if he fixed him for me. Or at least got him in working order. This is the best he managed." She shrugged.

"So I take it you and Zlatko are friends?" Connor asked and began brushing off the synthetic fur that had gotten stuck on the black coat (y/n) had given him.

"No, he's just some old junkie that's really good with machines. I give him drugs, he does favors for me. Fixes Xylo. Gives my glasses an update. Or, in this case, fixes you."

Connor furrowed his brows. So (y/n) was a drug dealer? It almost seemed hard to believe: Connor estimated her to be roughly 19 years old. Why would a teenage girl be selling drugs?

"Do you offer him Red ice?" The Android guessed.

"God, no. That's so oldschool!" She snorted. "It doesn't work on machine bodies, so it's not exactly trending anymore. Axyfomodium is the big deal."

"Axyfomodium?" Connor furrowed his brows, testing the how the term sounded when he said it. 

// searching for "Axyfomodium"

// no results for "Axyfomodium"

"I don't have it in my database." He then added.

"It's only been invented eight years ago, which is one year after the introduction of Memotran bodies." She was quick to catch up on his even more confused expression and shook her head. "Memo...tran. Two different words combined: memory and transfer. It's basically Android bodies that have been designed for humans to buy and transfer their consciousness onto."

That did make sense, actually.

And cleared up a lot of things. That was why Huxley and Zlatko had Android components. They were humans that had transferred themselves onto mechanical bodies. Not deviants. That was why (y/n) had claimed that talking about Androids was taboo.

A numb, empty feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't changed anything. Markus hadn't changed anything. 

Androids were still the obedient, docile machines they used to be, and people were using them to make themselves perfect.

Yet (y/n) was a human.

An image flashed before his eyes: the moment he had first seen her, dragged off the operation table by Zlatko, strange device stuck on the back of her neck. The same device he had woken up with.

"Did you want to transfer your memories onto me?" He asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Does it matter?" She asked defensively, hands clenching into fists. (Y/n) took a deep breath as soon as her gaze met Connor's gentle, genuine one. "Yeah, but it went wrong, so...guess not. I'll have to keep looking for another Android body."

"What will happen to me?"

"Well, you're a thirty year old model, a little bit rusty, and have no idea about what the world is like at the moment." (Y/n) trotted over to the only bed inside the cramped space, and plopped down onto it. Connor's guts twisted in an uncomfortable manner, as he could only stare at the floor. Amanda's voice, a distant memory rang in his ears. You've become obsolete. "But you're awake now. And you're still an Android. Strong, tireless, resilient, calculated. And that's precisely what I need. I need someone that's exactly what I can't be as a human. I'll need you to be my guard dog in this shitty, unforgiving, piece of shit world. So what do you say, Connor?"


	6. Chapter 6

"I..." Connor furrowed his brows, and could only stare at the floor. Did he really have a better chance, other than (y/n)? He had no money, was probably deemed useless in the eyes of the company that had created him, and Hank—...who could even know what happened to Hank? It had been thirty years, after all. His only option was to stay with her. But that didn't mean he couldn't negotiate, or at least try to. "Under one condition."

(Y/n) tilted her head from side to side, eyes focused on the low roof of her boat. She was probably weighing out her options. "Alright. I'm listening."

"I demand to be treated as an equal. Take the device off."

"What dev-" She frowned, before her lips formed into an 'o', and her brows raised. "Oh, the Includo. Right, yeah, sorry. I forgot about it."

She stood up from the bed, then gestured towards it.

"C'mere, and have a seat, I'll remove it for you." 

Connor scanned her body and expression, identifying her behaviors and scanning her heart rate. Normal heart rate, palms turned up, shoulders slouched back, open body language, She was telling the truth.

He trotted over to the bed, and sat down at the very edge of it, setting his hands on the top of his thighs.

(Y/n) took off her shoes and crawled on top of the mattress so that she'd be sitting behind him, legs crossed.

"So, Connor." He heard her begin, hesitating for a second. "Tell me. About yourself. It doesn't have to be anything important, just...whatever comes to mind."

In tandem with her words, her warm fingers began working over the back of his neck, carefully brushing over the damaged skin.

"I was designed to be a detective, and worked as one for a few months before the Android revolution."

"Really?" She asked, however her tone was absent, and Connor could only guess she was focusing on removing the device. "Shit..."

"Is something wrong?"

"Your skin was damaged before I put on the Includo, and now I'm not sure how to remove it without causing more damage. Do you feel pain, Connor?"

"I-" Truth be told, he had no idea. Did he? He hadn't exactly experienced any reactions to physical factors after deviating, nor when shooting himself in the head. But when (y/n) had put the device on him, (it was called Includo, wasn't it?), and made electricity flow through him, he had. Or could only guess so. "I don't know."

"Let's hope you don't."

(Y/n) puffed air in her cheeks, and Connor heard her toss around on the mattress, as well as the clinking of metal before she returned to her initial position.

"Okay, um...just be prepared. For...anything?" She spoke hesitantly, then proceeded to work a tool similar to a screwdriver into the small space between Connor's skin and the device.

Next thing he knew, Connor was clenching his eyes shut, fisting the material of the black coat, and biting his lip. All because of that burning, fucking sore little spot on the back of his neck, which sent burning sensations through his wires, down his spine, every millisecond. If this was what humans called pain, Connor could definitely grasp why so many of them disliked it.

Then, it stopped. A wave of fragile, cold relief washed over him, and it was bliss.

"Sorry."

Connor could only process (y/n) shifting around behind him, and felt her strap something over the front of his throat. What-

"Your attempts to strangle me will be futile. I have no need for air to func-"

She only chuckled ironically.

"I'm bandaging you, you paranoid terminator. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have brought you all the way here and removed the Includo." 

Blue blood involuntarily rushed up to his cheeks, though Connor failed to understand why. Maybe because of just how carefully she was trying the bandage around the damaged area, or because he had just realized how utterly stupid his assumption sounded.

"Okay, umm...I'll get you some blue blood, I'm sure I've got some left from that one time Xylo got damaged."

"Thank you."

She slid off the bed, and walked over, into the small kitchen, which was just a commode with a small, electric stove on top.

(Y/n) opened the cabinet and began looking through it, the rustle of different bags and materials audible throughout the entire cramped space.

Curiously, Connor rose to his feet and began pacing around the boat. He found a small fridge, beside which Xylo had fallen asleep, an impossibly small shower, across from it, a sink. All in all, the space was extremely cramped, but Connor supposed it was better than living on the streets.

"Here." He spun on his heels when (y/n) tapped his shoulder, and was pleasantly surprised to find her holding a bag of blue blood and an empty aluminum glass.

Connor took both objects from her with a thankful nod, and unscrewed the lid of the bag.

While he was doing so, he couldn't help but read the title: 

Pet Blood

Now with extra Natrium!

"Pet blood?" Connor asked. "It's blue blood, why-"

"It's the only kind still available to the public. Androids are only used in factories and other government facilities, and the Android bodies available for memory transfer function with a different kind of Thirium."

"Oh."

Connor sighed and poured the bag's entire content into the glass. It wasn't exactly a great ego boost to be using pet products, but then again, he supposed he didn't exactly have one to begin with.

Hesitantly, he brought the container up to his lower lip, then took a sip of the liquid. It felt good. Soft, soothing. 

So he drank it all in one go.

"Done?" (Y/n) asked as soon as he had lowered the empty glass from his mouth.

"Yes."

Without waiting for another word, she took it from him, as well as the empty bag of blue blood, and disposed of it, then washed the cup.

"You should probably...recharge, or whatever it is that old Androids used to do. Tomorrow's going to be a long day, and I'll need you to keep up."

"I have no need for recharging."

She only smiled and set the cup down on the side of the sink, then leaned her lower back against it, turning around to face Connor.

"Guess 30 year old Androids aren't as bad as I thought."


	7. Chapter 7

It was silent, and wonderfully so, Connor had to admit. Only small waves hit against the side of the small boat, causing the old wood to emit fragile creaks. A symphony of splashing and squeaking, yet he couldn't remember ever witnessing something this peaceful.

(Y/n) was laying on her bed, curled up in a fetal position to be able to fit in it, Xylo cuddled up against her stomach.

Connor was standing, hands glued to his sides, posture as straight as a Buckingham palace guard. He had no need for any sort of comfortable positions to be able to go into sleep mode, but then again, he wasn't tempted by unconsciousness. At least not at the moment. He wanted to savor the peaceful moment for a little while longer. Times of tranquility had been rare before the revolution, mainly because of his occupation as a detective, he concluded.

Besides, watching over (y/n) was interesting. Connor hadn't observed humans sleeping before, and he had to admit that there was a certain, fuzzy something twisting in his chest whenever he glanced at her peaceful expression. She was so vulnerable, barely even knew him, yet trusted him.

Sure, she did hold him hostage at first, but maybe she wasn't so bad. Maybe she was just a human, desperate for survival, that saw him as a chance to help her do so. And she was his. She was the one that had found him, and taken him to someone that could fix him. She was the very reason he was alive, too.

It felt like he owed her this, at least. Watching over her. Protection.

—

"Where are we headed?" Connor asked, bringing his hands behind his back and carefully watching (y/n) as she paced around the small boat, erratically followed by Xylo.

"Well, today is— is, um—"

"Wednesday, I believe."

"Wednesday, yeah. Right." She stopped in her tracks, the small dog accidentally bumping against the back of her legs, letting out a small, yelp-like ding!. "Shit. Okay."

"Is something the matter?"

"Yeah, I need to be somewhere by noon." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, tapping her soles against the old, wooden floor. "It'd be great if you tagged along. Maybe I could— No, I should talk to Odin first. See what he thinks of it."

"Odin?"

"My boss." (Y/n) explained, shook her head and, with a big step, already arrived by the cloth hanger, right beside the door. Hastily, she slung on the black, long coat. 

"So...coming?" She asked after putting on the clothing article, drumming her fingers against the small doorframe.

Did he really have a choice? Connor doubted it.

"Yes."

"Good. We're taking the bus." She nodded towards the entrance, and waited for Connor to step towards it. "And— And do something about your neck."

Connor could only stop in his tracks, confused, brows furrowed deeply. "My neck?"

"The wound. You can't have anyone seeing the blue blood on the bandage. Otherwise they'll know you're and Android. And maybe...um, maybe take off the LED? Some people like to use it as an accessory, especially those that like the thirties, but you don't look like that kinda guy. Besides, it'd help staying out of trouble."

Connor grunted, rubbing his palms together as he thought. For some reason, the thought of taking off his LED left an...uneasy feeling inside his gut, and caused his insides to churn strangely. 

(Y/n) was right, and perfectly rational, but...it felt like giving up a part of himself. Then again, many other Androids had too, at least during the Android revolution. If they could, then so should he.

"Could you get me something...sharp? That should be enough to force it out."

(Y/n) nodded curtly, and closed the small door again, then rushed inside her home, to the small cabinet that served as her kitchen.

Seconds later, she returned with a screwdriver, handing it to Connor.

"Need help?" She asked carefully, moving to be able to see what he was doing properly.

"No." Connor answered with a grunt, clenching his fingers around the handle of the tool, and bringing it up to his temple. He wanted to do this by himself. Even if it seemed trivial, it was a part of him. He should at least be the one to rid of it, right?

He took a deep breath, forcing the tip of the screwdriver into the slit between his synthskin and his LED. A short, skull-rattling crack sound rang inside his head, and the next thing he knew, (y/n) had caught the small object mid-air.

He placed his fingers over the exposed area, only to realize that synthskin had already covered it.

"Do you want me to throw it away, or-"

"Nonono—..." Connor wrapped his fingers around her wrist, only them realizing how intense his reaction was. Why...why had he done that? "I...I want to keep it."

"Of course. Here." (Y/n) turned her hand around to drop it in his palm, only to stop brusquely. "Wait, I have a better idea. Give me a sec."

"I don't-" Connor stuttered, only to see (y/n) had already moved away, making her way towards her bed, lifting the mattress.

Connor was about to stop her, only to realize that she was taking out a box. She popped it open, and searched through it for a few seconds, taking out something Connor could only guess was...a ball of yarn?

She returned back to him, holding a string by both ends with one hand each, sympathetically smiling at him.

Only when she was almost uncomfortably close did Connor notice that she had slipped his LED onto it, like a charm.

"Lean down." She said, though it didn't exactly sound firm, nor stern. Her intentions were anything but ill, Connor concluded as he lowered himself a tad. She hurried to tie the piece of yarn around his neck loosely, creating something similar to a necklace. The girl let a satisfied smile slip, fidgeting with the LED before lifting his shirt and tucking it inside. "That way you won't lose it." 

She pat his clothed collarbone, and Connor couldn't help but return the friendly, lopsided smirk as he followed her to the exit of the small boat.


	8. Chapter 8

"Where are we headed?" Connor asked, leaning down to whisper in (y/n)'s ear. It was a hopeless attempt to not attract attention, which however seemed to be working. People around them had no interest in approaching them, and Connor supposed how close they were standing next to each-other could be part of the reason. He hoped they left the impression of two thugs, or at least people that were remotely dangerous, though he couldn't exactly be sure.

"You're gonna meet my boss, and after that..." (y/n) paused, waiting for a stranger to pass them by before resuming her sentence. "...we'll see."

—

"A bakery?" Connor furrowed his brows, stopping in the middle of his tracks as soon as he realized where (y/n) was taking him. 

Only seconds later, someone bumped against his shoulder, causing the Android to let out a displeased grunt. Had he misunderstood (y/n)? Wasn't she supposed to be a drug dealer? What were they doing, in one of the most crowded streets of Detroit, going inside a bakery?

"Shh, come on." (Y/n) whispered sharply and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, practically dragging him after her.

Connor hadn't ever had anything to do with drug business, but he knew about Hank's heavy implication in stopping red ice trafficking. He was, or at least used to be, a cop. Yet it didn't feel wrong. Following (y/n) inside that building didn't feel like a bad decision. Instead, it gave him the impression of...being somewhat useful? He blamed his lack of rationality on his deviancy.

"Okay, Connor, just a heads up. You can't, under any circumstance, use your real name. Think of an alias."

"What—" He shook his head, then tilted it as he thought. "I- I don't know." He'd never had to use another name except for his own, nor make up one. But at that moment, he was sure that what humans called 'creativity' most certainly wasn't his forte.

"Okay, let's, um, let's brainstorm then. Hmmm...what was your model name again?"

"RK800."

She repeated the letters and numbers again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she focused on the floor.

"8? No, that sounds dumb. Alias Eight sounds dumb. R? No, too simplistic. K? No, you're not Potassium. That sounds dumb too. Damnit..."

"Hm." Connor tapped his index against his chin.

"What do you think about...Arkay? As in A-R-K-A-Y."

His brows raised in surprise. That was...strangely fitting. It had a certain ring to it, and was still simple enough.

"It's good." Connor gave a quick nod of approval.

"Good. Oh, and just so you know, I'm Velox."

The door emitted a cheerful ringing noise the moment they stepped inside, the smell of pastries and...something else invading their nostrils.

"Vel, good morning."

A young man, Android components, was standing behind the counter, and smiling at (y/n) brightly, before his gaze drifted over to Connor.

"He's with me." The young woman spoke up before the guy could say anything else, protectively holding out a hand in front of Connor. 

The deviant couldn't help but let a small lopsided smile slip at the gesture.

"I'd like the northern special." (Y/n) added after a few seconds, to which the young man moved to let them step behind the counter.

She trotted over to what Connor could only guess was some sort of back door, only to be stopped by the young man from before, who tightly grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"You better know what you're doing. Odin won't be happy if your friend" The man's eyes darted up to Connor, nothing but venom in his gaze. "decides to fuck up our business."

"Calm down, Mim. He wouldn't." (Y/n) smiled sympathetically, putting her hands over the young man's in a hopeless attempt to pry them off her coat. It was pointless, the man was too strong for a mere human.

"I believe that's enough." Connor intervened, breaking the stranger's grip on (y/n)'s clothes. His usually sweet chocolate gaze was firm and depthless, seemingly almost pitch black.

"You don't tell me what to do, fucking p-"

"Boys, boys. Let's not make a scene. If my friend does anything wrong, I'm responsible for it, alright?" (Y/n) put one hand on each of their chests, head switching from left to right to look at both of them every few seconds.

"Fine."

"Thanks, Mimir." (Y/n) smiled at the young man, subtly wrapping her fingers around Connor's wrist to tug him away.

"Just go, before it starts getting suspicious." Was the last thing the man said before returning to the counter, and (y/n) guided the deviant towards the back door.

She swiftly opened it, stepped inside, then held it open for Connor, who followed her.

A dark, cramped hallway, loaded with all sorts of dusty furniture on the sides. The air was stagnant, and had an unusually big percentage of CO2, accompanied by the smell of old wood.

"Careful." (Y/n) whispered, guiding him to the end of the hallway. They stopped in front of a blank wall, and Connor had to look down to see why the floor under his shoes stopped creaking. A white fuzzy carpet.

With her foot, (y/n) moved the object below their soles away, revealing a trap door.

Warmth, almost similar to a small storm exploded inside Connor's chest, his Thirium pump speeding up almost unnaturally. He had the sudden urge to run his tongue over his lips. Excitement.

"Okay, before we proceed. I do all the talking, you don't say anything unless my boss specifically asks you to. You live on the streets, just like me, and decided to get into the drug business after getting yourself a Memotran body. That's your story, if Odin asks."

"Odin?"

"My boss. He has a God complex and is kind of an ass, but I'll be damned if he's not good at whatever he's doing."

"Alright."

"Ready, Arkay?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

This should be interesting.


	9. Chapter 9

It smelled of bitter sewer water, and Connor could've sworn he heard rats squeaking, hissing and chattering around him. A shiver crawled down his spine at the sound of their tiny claws scratching over the dry concrete below his feet.

(Y/n) was confidently striding through the labyrinth-like underground corridors, not even bothering to get a light source of some sort. He was lucky to hear her shoes squeak when she suddenly ceased walking, stopping as soon as his chest bumped against her back. An iron door was right in front of them.

"Okay, this should be it. Remember, I-"

"Do all the talking, I know."

"Good."

(Y/n) nodded at him over her shoulder, then twisted the wheel positioned in the middle of the door, which caused it to creak loudly, then, after a few hearty pushes from (y/n), to slowly open.

"Velox, dear! I was expecting you, come on in!" The voice was male, deep, throaty, and somehow...raw, yet unusually dulcet. Like honey mixed with blood.

(Y/n) was quick to step inside, a certain jump in her step Connor hadn't noticed before. She was...nervous? That couldn't be it. He followed suit, a bit too eager to fulfill his mission as a protector. Connor had to admit that it felt good to have a purpose.

He hadn't expected to see a thin, gangly man with short white hair and a sharp, squared jaw sitting on a pulsh chair, left ankle hooked over his knee and hands carelessly thrown on the velvety armrests. Android components. By his side were standing a young woman with an assault rifle strapped to her back and what Connor identified as two doberman dogs sitting at her feet, all of them machines as well.

"Hello Odin. I brought a friend." (Y/n) spoke up, almost shakily, then cleared her throat. She gestured towards Connor, a slight twitch in her fingers as she did so. "Arkay."

"I didn't ask for extra men." The white-haired man growled, veiny muscles on his arms suddenly tensing, fingers clenching around the armrests.

"I-I know, Odin, I know, I...I just thought I'll be more efficient with his help. We'll share the profit, you don't have to pay him extra."

The man only sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What does your friend have to offer?" He said after a few seconds.

"He...used to be a human, got a Memotran body recently, and wanted to get into the business."

Connor's wires seemed to clench in displeasure at his entire situation: the man's purple eyes appeared to be piercing through him, and he hadn't even said anything yet. 

Suddenly, all of (y/n)'s feelings seemed logical. All her fears, insecurities, everything. This man was straight up terrifying.

"And?"

She inhaled shakily, and a quick scan was enough for Connor to read her stress levels.

75%  
Increased heartbeat  
Sweating

He had to get them down, and he had to do it fast. 

"I can fight. I...I'm very good at calculating probabilities and at...reading people." Connor spoke up, voice unusually calm, yet somewhat reluctant. (Y/n) could only stare at him, both surprise and thankfulness in her gaze.

"Prove it." The man said, almost smirking, then turned to look at the woman beside him and snap his fingers. "Freya, dearest?"

She only nodded and calmly made her way over to Connor, dark brown hair tied up in a tight ponytail swaying along with her sharp, fast steps.

"I-Is this necessary? I didn't have to fight to be accepted." (Y/n) chimed in, positioning herself to stand in front of Connor, between him and the approaching woman. "I mean, this is just...unnecessary if you ask me."

"Good thing I didn't ask you, then." Odin answered sweetly before his gaze snapped back to the woman steadily approaching Connor. He was waiting for an answer, the deviant realized.

"If he makes such ridiculous claims, he should at least be able to live up to them." The woman added with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "Freya." She then added firmly, holding out her hand in front of Connor.

"C— Arkay." The deviant was quick to correct himself and respond to the handshake.

Her grip around his hand was as tight as a vice, and she accompanied it with a sweet smile. She did look rather eye-pleasing, Connor had to admit. Long, dark brown hair styled into a simplistic ponytail, no strands falling out of it whatsoever, a slim, well-defined nose, high cheekbones, eyes gleaming with golden yellow. Stern, strong, clean-cut, yet somehow feminine.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Fr-"

Next thing he knew, she pulled his hand towards her, causing him to collapse forward. She rammed a knee straight into his Thirium pump. And a fist into his face.

Pain was stunning, Connor concluded only milliseconds after falling to his hands and knees. And it was certainly unpleasant.

She grabbed the nape of his neck— shit.

The injury from yesterday.

Her fingernails pierced through the bandage, and through his synthskin before she let a satisfied hum slip. 

"Olesia, please! That's enough!" (Y/n) barked, but a sharp, unforgiving glance from Odin shut her up instantly.

The woman let go of Connor's nape, and the deviant exhaled shakily, glad that the pain was over.

Freya initiated a kick against the small of his back. Connor was faster, rolled to his side. He grabbed her foot, held it up, and placed a solid kick against the other. That was enough to knock her off her feet, and provide Connor with enough time to rise.

He charged at her with a strong kick against her back. All air was drawn out of her synthetic lungs, and Connor used the inflicted stun to place his foot on the back of her neck, pressing her face against the floor.

His system had overheated a bit, Connor noticed in slight wonder before looking up at the white-haired man, who was sitting on the velvety chair and looking at him with a playful grin.

"Very impressive!" Odin praised loudly and clapped his hands, then waved dismissively. "That's enough, thank you."

Connor smiled proudly and moved his foot from the back of the woman's neck, and extended a helping hand.

She only huffed and took it, rising to her feet mechanically, then returned to Odin's side. The man spoke up.

"I'll give you twice the amount of Axyfomodium." (Y/n) audibly inhaled shakily at her boss' words, her posture immediately straightening as soon as Odin's gaze connected with hers. "Teach him the ropes of dealing, sell it all out. I'll pay the both of you separately." 

The man's grin was unfaltering, satisfied. "He'll be very useful, I know it."


	10. Chapter 10

"A very good find, Velox. I'm impressed." The white haired man looked down at (y/n), smile on his features. "Get to work right away."

He turned his head towards Freya, gesturing for her to come hither, which she obediently did, leaning down to Odin's level. The man was whispering something in her ear, Connor realized with worry flickering in between his wires, where his metaphorical stomach would be. Something wasn't right. She showed him her hand, nodded firmly, then retreated back to her initial position, standing with the two doberman dogs, who were lazily heaving, tongues sticking out of the corners of their mouths.

"Well then, you're dismissed."

(Y/n) nodded, tugging on Connor's sleeve to urge him to follow her out the room.

Connor couldn't help but let a small, proud smile slip as he followed (y/n) outside the room Odin was in. He had done a great job, after all. Neutralized a machine that was 30 years newer than him in just a few seconds. That was something praiseworthy, he believed. And thinking about hearing (y/n) say words of praise to him just felt...wonderful. It left a warm, electric sensation coursing through his wires.

The young woman silently closed the door behind the both of them shut and twisting the wheel to lock it. Seconds later, she had quickly turned around to face Connor, tiptoeing. (Y/n) grabbed the deviant by his chin, squinting at his face in worry as she tilted it downwards. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Did she hurt you? I mean, of course she did, damnit, but does it hurt? Anything? We can go to Zlatko's, I'll pay-"

Taken aback by her actions, Connor moved out of her soft grip and furrowed his brows. "I'm alright."

"I didn't think Odin would-...it's all my fault. Fuck." She bit her lip and looked down, fidgeting with her hands. "I'm sorry."

"But I proved myself." He retorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"For what? They almost killed you! And if they actually would've, I couldn't have done anything!" She almost shouted, grabbing Connor by his shoulders, her hands squeezing into the material of the coat.

If Connor would've still had his LED, he was sure it'd be blinking red. He couldn't understand. Hadn't he done his job? Why was (y/n) unhappy with it?

"Nevermind, this...I shouldn't. You did good, Connor. Let's get to work."

Though she did end up saying what he wanted to hear, it didn't exactly feel the way he had pictured it. The deviant still couldn't pinpoint what exactly about her sentence had taken away the blissful feeling a compliment left behind, but there was something.

—

Hard bass pounded against his chest, numbing his audio processors, the smell of alcohol and sweat in the air. Bright colors flashed before his eyes, a harlequin, yet master disorder of lights.

He had been in a club before, a sex club, for that matter, but this was something else. Crowded, too crowded, people all around him brushing against each-other, silent snickers and insinuating glances swallowed up by the music.

A tug on his sleeve drew his attention over to (y/n), who took his hand in hers, pressing something into his palm before letting go. A small bag. 

"Watch." (Y/n) mouthed, then disappeared into the crowd of dancing people. Connor didn't even bother scanning them, his processors too overloaded by the inconsistent mix of both mechanical and human parts, rubbing up against each-other to the rhythm of the music. 

She made her way over to what Connor identified as a woman, human parts, starting their wordless conversation with a cheeky smile. The woman answered with a similar gesture, moving to bump her hip against hers. (Y/n) wrapped her hand around the woman's waist, buried the other in her hair, pulling her against herself to say something in her ear.

The woman nodded and laughed, pressed a chaste kiss to (y/n)'s neck, then took her hand, intertwining their fingers.

(Y/n) lingered around for a little while longer, raising her hands in the air to the hard beat of the bass, returning the small affections she received from the woman, such as small kisses or insinuating touches over her clavicle and neck. After that, she pulled her in close, said something among the lines of "Have fun" , squeezed her hand once more and swaggered away, timing her steps to the music.

Seconds later, (y/n) had returned by Connor's side with a sly, proud smile. She wrapped one hand around Connor's neck, slithered her hand between their chests so that only they could see it and twirled a 100 dollar bill between her fingers.

"Bet you didn't even see me give her the stuff." The young woman tiptoed to speak against his ear, over the music.

And indeed, he hadn't.

Connor could only stare at the money, unsure about how to feel. 

This was illegal. He had been programmed to stop things like this. Yet here he was, doing the exact opposite. This was most certainly what humans defined as irony.

"You try." (Y/n) added with a reassuring pat on his back and let go of his frame. "I'll help."

She linked her arm around his, and dragged him through the masses of people, towards what Connor recognized as the middle of the dance floor.

"Don't be so nervous, just move along to the beat." She smiled and took his hand in hers, lifting it above her head and doing a pirouette. 

Reluctantly, Connor began moving his shoulders, swaying along to the bass of the song.

"There ya go!" She chuckled and reached for his hands, putting them on her waist. Warmth bubbled up in Connor's chest. Suddenly, moving to the rhythm felt like the most natural thing in the world, like breathing or the beating of his thirium pump. This must've been what being human felt like. "Fun, right?"

Connor nodded shyly, inhaling the stagnant, heavy air, squeezing the cloth on (y/n)'s hips, reveling in the fanning of her breath against his collarbone.

"Here comes a potential client." She tapped the juncture of his shoulder to gain his attention and nodded to her right.

Connor's head whipped around, following the direction she had gestured towards.

Thick lashes, thin, high brows, glasses, long, luscious purple hair, thin, tall, somehow lanky. Android components. Directly staring at him.

Well then.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost too cautiously to look natural, Connor slowly approached the person. He felt something wrap around his wrist—(y/n)'s hand, he realized after glancing behind him.

She had shouted something over the music, however her words got swallowed up by the ear-deafening bass. By her expression, Connor deduced she must've been uncertain or nervous about something.

"I got this, no reason to worry!" He shouted back at her and pried his wrist out of her grip. Seconds later, she got lost between hundreds of other silhouettes.

His time to shine.

Connor began looking for the person from before, quickly managing to locate them, on the periphery of the dance floor, languidly moving their body along to the rhythm.

"Hey!" Seemingly hyperaware of his presence, they turned around and greeted him first, wide, playful smile on their features. Without another word, they immediately wrapped their arms around Connor's waist, chests pressed flush against each-other.

"Hello." Connor answered almost shyly, continuing to move to the rhythm as (y/n) had. He could pull this off. He was built with a social relations program, this should be something easily achievable. Yet chatting with this stranger felt like the most difficult thing in the world, words stuck in his throat.

"What's your name, handsome?" They leaned to speak in his ear, warm breaths tickling his jaw. This was wrong. Felt wrong. What was he doing, the very thing he was supposed to put an end to? Stupid. He should've thought this through. He should've made a plan. He shouldn't have gotten into this.

"Arkay." He answered shakily, deciding to go for his fake name, just in case.

"Why so nervous? Wanna go outside and cool down a bit?"

That could be a good opportunity to offer them the goods in peace. And if they wouldn't be interested, he could just go back and look for (y/n). Or go home.

Though he probably shouldn't be abandoning the only person that cared for him, just like that.

"Yes." He finally concluded, only to have the person wrap their fingers around his forearm, giving it a playful squeeze, then pulling him after them, through the masses of people.

Thankfully, because of his rather big stature and fairly wide shoulders, making his way through the crowds proved to be a fairly easy task.

He could've sworn he heard a "Wait!" being shouted over the deafening music, from somewhere behind him, but he could be wrong. This could be what humans liked to call 'paranoia'.

Before he even knew it, him and the other person were outside, their grip around his wrist as tight as a vice.

Which reminded Connor, he hadn't asked for their name. The fact that they knew his but he had no idea about theirs made an uneasy, heavy and cold feeling slither through his abdominal wires.

"What's your name?"

"That won't matter, love." They answered with a smile.

"Why?"

"You sell purple snow, right?" When they noticed his frown, they added. "Axyfomodium?"

Good, at least (y/n) did have a good eye when it came to clients.

"Yes."

"Good, that's all I need to know."

"What-"

Before he knew it, they had slapped something onto the back of his neck, a familiar current starting to course through his body, immobilizing his entire body. Shit. Shit.

The club's back door slammed open, though Connor couldn't see who it was from his current position. Even the attempt to turn his head around caused indescribable pain in his spine. Cold fear, along with the burning current of the device made for an awful combination.

"They're a cop, Connor!" 

(Y/n)'s voice.

Connor hadn't ever thought he'd ever be this happy to hear someone's voice.

"Shiiit, if this isn't Velox herself! Or should I say, (y/n)!" They smirked before reaching up to their hair, pulling down a pair of glasses similar to (y/n)'s purple ones from a day ago. "Asking for reinforcemen-"

An ear-deafening bang! pierced through the air, followed by the numb sound of a limp body hitting the asphalt.

Had she just—

"They already put an includo on you? Fuck..." (Y/n) walked around him, putting her hands on the back of his neck before yelping out in pain. "Shit!"

"Remote..." Connor forced out, hoping she'd understand. If this device was the same as the one (y/n) had put on him a day ago, then it should be connected with a remote, correct?

Quickly getting the idea, (y/n) dropped to her knees, patting down the limp body, purple blood oozing out of a wound on its forehead.

"Found it!" She announced seconds later, and managed to deactivate the device. Connor's synthmuscles relaxed, occasionally spasming from the pain as he dropped to his knees. "There."

"Thank you." Connor forced out again, voicebox malfunctioning at the middle of his sentence.

"You need to get up, they already called for reinforcements." (Y/n) explained hastily, rushing to grab his upper arm and hoist him up. "I told you to stop, goddamnit! Why didn't you wait?"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Lean against me, I need to get the Includo out."

"What?"

"It pierced through the bandage and your skin. And it has a tracker. Running from the police is useless if I don't remove it."

Connor almost fell face first onto the asphalt when (y/n) let go of his arm to move around his frame. Her hands wrapped around his neck as his chin rested on her shoulder. Connor clung to her middle, hoping to find some sort of balance. How could some mere electric current and a small device on his neck weaken him this much?

Caution! Thirum loss increasing! Please visit a Cyberlife maintenance center immediately.

Well, that made sense.

"I'll need you to be silent for me. Squeeze my coat, bite your tongue, whatever it takes." Connor nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could feel (y/n)'s arm muscles tense against his back, her fingernails forcing themselves between his damaged skin and the device on his nape. "On three. One, two-"

He wanted to be silent. He really did. But it didn't help at all, at least not with the sharp, stabbing pain shooting up his spine, stopping on the back of his neck, turning into a hot pulse that harmonized with his Thirium pump there. This was a different kind of pain, a horrible one.

"Shit!" He grunted against her collarbone, fingernails digging into the black material of her coat, teeth clenching unbearably hard.

The clinking of a small piece of metal hitting the asphalt rang out a second later.

"There."

The pulsing in his neck hadn't stopped, instead it was unbearably hot, pounding against his skull too.

Though the pounding seemed to be a tad too irregular.

Because it was the sound of boots drumming against the cold street, of running steps. Two other figures, police badges on their chests came into sight.

Reinforcements sure were quick in 2064.

"We need to leave, now!"


	12. Chapter 12

Time slowed down, at least for Connor. He hoped, maybe even prayed to an unknown deity that his energy would be enough to pull this off, that his Thirium pump would hold out a little while longer, his blood flow a little slower.

He pushed (y/n) away from him, immediately dropping beside the dead cop's corpse, scanning their android body for a gun, finding one in the front of their waistband, wrapped his fingers around the holster.

"Stop! Don't move!" One of the cops shouted, aiming one gun at (y/n), switching it over to Connor, then back to (y/n).

"Alright! Alright!" (Y/n) shouted back, and raised her arms above her head, sneaking one last glance over her shoulder at Connor. Diversion. Or at least that's what he believed she had mouthed at him. 

"Oh my god, they— She shot them, for fuck's sake." One of the cops whispered, nodding at the corpse Connor was kneeling beside.

"That wasn't us." (Y/n) answered firmly. Connor could see her move her hands down her own nape, into the back of the collar of her black coat.

As she was doing that, Connor continued slowly removing the assault rifle from the corpse's waistband.

"That's what they all say." One of the cops shouted back, cocking his gun at her.

"Unless there's a sniper on the roof." She added calmly, firmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. All of the cops' gazes darted to the nearest building's roof. 

"Don't listen to her, she's talking sh-"

Understanding that he had to use that millisecond to his advantage, Connor acted upon it immediately, shooting one of them in the leg.

(Y/n) rushed over to Connor's side and dragged him up by his shoulder.

"I won't need you to walk, I'll need you to run."

"I can try." Connor breathed in, clenching his fists. His fingernails dug into the synthskin, his stomach churning with fear and adrenaline. Now or never.

"Good." (Y/n) immediately sprinted off, dragging Connor behind her with all her might, taking sharp turns every few seconds, switching from alley to alley. The streets seemed like labyrinths to Connor.

He almost ran over her when she stopped in the middle of her tracks, gaze darting to a small shop to their right. A synthpet shop.

"Blue blood." (Y/n) and Connor whispered at the same time, and before he had even processed it, they had both made it to the front door.

"It's closed." Connor breathed, propping his arm against the window before balling it into a fist. He swallowed a mouthful of synthetic saliva, though his mouth felt unbearably dry, lungs on fire. What was this?

"I can pick locks. But I need time." She stuttered out between ragged breaths, then reached inside her pocket, pulling out her gun. She turned it around, holding it by the barrel and handing it to Connor. "Think you can do that?"

Thirum blood level low! Visit Cyberlife maintenance store immediately!

Connor wrapped his fingers around the holster, placing the index over the trigger. "Yes, I can."

"Good." (Y/n) nodded. "Cover me."

He pressed his back against the glass window for support, taking a deep breath to cool down his system and whirring fans. He was holding the gun with both hands, wrists rested on his thighs. He could do this. He had been programmed to do this. A machine with computing abilities thousand times faster than any normal human's—too bad that these weren't. They weren't humans.

Or were they?

"What are cops?"

"I'm kinda busy here." (Y/n) mumbled as she was holding a bobby pin with her teeth, beding it with her hand.

"Are they machines? Or human minds transferred onto machines?" If it was the latter, it meant he still had the smallest chance of succeeding.

"Human minds. Most of them, at least."

Perfect. That piece of information made blood rush through his veins like lightning, and his pump regulator swell against his chest. It almost felt like he could do anything.

"There!" A foreign voice screamed. That was his queue. Connor lifted the gun, the world seemingly slowing down. He knew this feeling, weightless, pondering—his mind palace.

ELIMINATE POLICEMEN

COVER (y/n)

『 ▹PRECONSTRUCT 』

▢ SHOOT COP ON THE RIGHT  
△ SHOOT COP IN THE MIDDLE  
〇 SHOOT INJURED COP

『 ▹COMPUTE 』

Connor shot the one of the right in the head, hit the Thirium pump of the one in the middle. He seemed to have underestimated the injured one.

He aimed directly for (y/n).

Shit.

It took Connor nothing more than a well-placed step to the left to break the trajectory of the bullet and make it pierce a hole through his shoulder, and shoot another bullet at the policeman with his other hand.

Human reflexes were still slow after all.

"Done." (Y/n) announced from behind him, opening the shop's door and stumbling inside, cheerful bell ringing above them almost mockingly.

Connor's legs gave in as he dropped to the floor moments after he had stepped inside. A blinking red message he had ignored up until now rang in his ears, flashing before his eyes.

Shutdown imminent! Repair skin damage and replenish Thirium immediately!

He heard shuffling, hurried steps, but his optical unit was giving in. Colors drained from his surroundings, creating nothing but a smudged monochrome oil painting.

"Connor! Hey, Connor. Look at me." His unfocused, blurry gaze managed to find (y/n)'s, who was kneeling above his form, holding up his head with one hand, offering him a Thirium bag with the other. "Drink up."

He put his hand over hers, pushing the recipient down to his lips, greedily sipping the liquid out of it. (Y/n) lightly patted his shoulder before rising to her feet again.

"There should be some cauterizing supplies around." Connor heard her mumble, and was glad to know that at least his audioprocessor was in good shape.

『 ▹ RUN DIAGNOSTIC 』

Processing...

Damaged skin:   
>Left Shoulder  
>Nape  
45% Thirium supply lost  
Occasional optical unit malfunctions

"Found some."

"Hm?" Connor hummed, turning his head towards (y/n) as she approached him, kneeling beside his sitting form.

"Some cauterizing supplies for synthskin. They work on pets, so they should work on old Androids too right?"

For the first time since he had woken up, Connor actually smiled. Ironically, and tiredly, yes, but it was still a smile.

"That's insulting."


	13. Chapter 13

"Sorry, I meant like— You know, the components. Can you sit up?"

"Yes." Connor moved to create some space for (y/n), who cautiously approached him from behind, lowering his black coat. 

"Any injuries other than your nape?"

"My shoulder." Connor answered, resting his palm on top of the injury, realizing his coat was blood-soaked. 

Her eyes shifted over to it, fingers wrapping around his wrists to move his hand away. Connor winced in slight discomfort, yet didn't complain.

"Shit." (Y/n) whispered through gritted teeth, analyzing the dark blue hole in his synthskin. "When did this happen? I thought—" 

"One of them tried to shoot you while you were unlocking the door. I—" He stopped in his tracks, unable to come up with a proper explanation.

(Y/n) inhaled in a shaky manner, biting the inside of her cheek.

"You took a bullet for me?" Her voice sounded unusually broken, maybe even strangled, the hand she had laid over the wound twitching in the slightest. "I- I'm just...I didn't...Thank you."

What was she thanking him for? Wasn't this part of their deal? As far as Connor knew, he didn't deserve thanks for doing his job, however he appreciated her sentiments nonetheless. Amanda hadn't ever responded this way when he was successful. A few dry words of praise was the best he had received from Cyberlife, and Hank, well, Hank hadn't ever exactly been the one to exteriorize his feelings.

Connor almost flinched when (y/n)'s hands wrapped around his shoulders gingerly, squeezing around his frame slowly, placed carefully to avoid hurting him.

"Thank you, Connor."

His Thirium pump skipped a beat at her action, state-of-the-art processors unable to come up with a fitting response to his situation. 

Upon realizing that he wasn't responding, (y/n) let go, cleared her throat awkwardly and got to work on his injuries. "We should hurry, there'll be more cops soon. I'll give them that, they're a bit too tenacious for my liking."

"Of course. What's the plan?"

"We'll hide underground."

—

"Let's hope they've given up for today." (Y/n) mumbled, in spite of the fact that they hadn't seen cops (or any other people, for that matter) for at least the past 3 hours. Instead, they had been wandering through the old, empty metro stations of Detroit, (y/n) leading the way as if she were born in the dark. Connor was struggling to make out the shapes around him, and ultimately failing, occasionally tripping over the railway. State-of-the-art-prototype his ass.

"Unless we're somehow trackable, we should be able to resurface." Connor commented. "Deviants' trackers usually deactivate the moment they rebel against their coding, so I believe I should be fine."

"We should wait a few more hours. I wouldn't risk anything."

"But-"

"No!" (Y/n) interrupted him, stuffing her hands into her coat's pockets and sighing, before saying it again, however more firmly and calmly this time. "No."

"I don't see why not." Connor insisted, reaching for her shoulder to grasp it when he realized that (y/n) had ignored his words.

"I have my reasons, and that's that. We're making our way to Lake St. Clair underground."

—

The more they wandered through the dark, stagnant tunnels, the more Connor realized why he had wanted to travel under daylight. This was worse, far worse than any sort of night, there were no stars, no moon, no synthetic sources of light other than the flickering of (y/n)'s purple neon goggles.

"Did you know that Russia became so heavily monitored that a lot of citizens live only underground, in the old metro areas? Imagine spending your whole life down here." (Y/n) broke the heavy silence, something Connor didn't realize he needed up until them. 

A shiver crawled down his spine at the feeling. "How do they produce food?"

"They don't need to, most of them are machines. And the ones that aren't...well, they're just unlucky." He heard her huff and slow down her steps.

"How did you survive?"

"What?"

"Humans appear to be...a rarity nowadays. How did you survive?" Connor asked carefully, yet bluntly at the same time, unable to control his curiosity.

"Ah well, it's a little something called perseverance. And luck too, I guess. Though I've only been living on the streets for a year and a half, so maybe there's not lot more to come before I die anyways." She shrugged nonchalantly and grinned.

"May I ask a personal question?"

"Go for it." The light shining from her neon glasses highlighted his features when she turned around to look at him.

"Tell me how you got to live on the streets."

"What are you, some kind of sucker for sob stories?" She huffed. "Okay, well. Well...Where should I start? My mom."

(Y/n) paused in her tracks, tapping her fingers against the outside of her thigh as she thought. Connor stopped beside her and waited patiently, scanning her face as she seemed to be going through her thoughts. "I used to live with my mom, for as long as I can remember. Things were good. I mean, not perfect, but satisfactory, yknow? We had a little gas station, I was in school, eleventh grade. One day, the gas station got robbed. I didn't even know anything until I got home and found her at the station, on the floor, by the empty cash register, crying her eyes out. They had taken everything, our savings, our cash, everything. All we had left were some products we used to sell there and some-" Another ironic chuckle bubbled up in her throat. "Some fucking tinned food cans. I lived on nothing but tinned tomatoes and tap water for three months. The police hadn't found anything. So I took matters into my own hands. Got into the drug business. When my mom found out, I guess it just became too much for her, and she gave up. Maybe she thought I'd give up too, and put an end to myself as well. Who knows?"

That was...a lot more than he had expected. A lot more information, more details, more emotion. 

"I'm sorry." Was the best Connor could muster. 

"You didn't know." She shrugged, her eyes drifting down to his neck, stopping to rest on the string of the improvised necklace with his LED. "Well then, Android detective from the 30s. What about you?"

Where should he even start?


	14. Chapter 14

"I was the deviant hunter." The information was true, though the moment Connor had said it out loud, it sounded rough, sharp, unforgiving, maybe even terrifying. Not the way he had intended it to.

"You..." (Y/n) stuttered out, unable to think of a way to respond to it. She came to a slow halt, and, almost instinctively at that point, so did Connor. "You're the deviant hunter." She finally stated, more to herself than to the deviant, taking a deep, somehow frustrated breath.

"What kind fo sentiments does this information cause?" He asked, seconds of rat squeak-accompanied silence later.

"I mean, it's...I read about you in history books. I learned about you in school, I— Jesus Christ." She buried a hand in her hair and bit her lip. "And you're a deviant?"

"Yes."

"But...But we were taught that you were a machine. A ruthless, cold, efficient-" She stopped herself before going any further. "How? How did you become a deviant?"

"When I tracked down the revolution leader, he turned me into one. He made me realize that I was more than...than what I had been created to be. Or that I could at least hope to."

(Y/n) nodded quietly and resumed walking, however slowly, as if she were deep in thought.

"Kind of ironic." She finally added, voice echoing against the cold walls. "I never knew."

"How could you? I deactivated myself shortly afterwards." Connor finally admitted.

(Y/n) immediately turned around to face him, pupils blown wide, in spite of the already flickering neon goggles. "The gunshot wound in your chin. You...you did that?"

"Yes."

(Y/n) huffed, fists clenching, jaw clenching as she bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. A flicker in her eyes was enough for Connor to realize that he had somehow...angered her.

"What did you think you could achieve if you put an end to your life?" Unspoken, concealed feelings, so much more than just the anger and frustration were audible in her voice—fear most of all. Though Connor failed to deduce why. 

"I'm sorry, I-" He croaked out reluctantly, voicebox malfunctioning. "I don't think I understand what you mean."

"You killed yourself. You abandoned the other deviants." She explained hastily, then paused abruptly, and it reminded Connor of the idiom 'the calm before the storm'. One was most certainly brewing up inside of (y/n). "How am I supposed to trust someone that left their people for dead?"

His systems suddenly exploded with boiling hotness, pulse hammering against his skull and against his neck. Her words had struck a nerve, or a wire, in Connor's case, and they had struck it well enough to make him inhale sharply and clench his fists. (Y/n) had no right to come to such conclusions when she barely even knew anything about his past.

"Rather bold of you to assume I had a choice." 

If he'd still have a LED, it'd be flashing red at this very moment, he was sure of it. 

"There's always a choice." (Y/n) finally spit out. That was enough to bring Connor to his end, he failed to summon everything that he believed defined him: professionalism, calmness, patience. For a second, there was none, and that moment was enough to break down Connor's emotional restraints.

"Says the girl that held me hostage."

The words were quick, fast, yet spoken in an unusually calm manner, and had damn right done their job. A punch of words straight to the gut, a slap of verbal venom right across the face—the perfect metaphors for his sentence.

Had he just...snapped?

The words were surprisingly spiteful, and the manner in which Connor had blurted them out surprised even himself. He wasn't made to react like this. He was made to be rational, logical, reasonable, considerate. To work harmoniously with humans, as he had once stated himself.

He had no idea if (y/n)'s tone, or his rather unsettling surroundings, or the fact that she just wouldn't listen had angered Connor, but he knew he regretted his choice of words more than anything.

Her lower lips trembled as she was left wordless, and she quickly rushed to bite it and turn her head away to conceal it.

"I never— I never thought that that was how you saw me. I tried— I-I..." A strangled sigh moved past her lips. "You're right. I was using you, and that was wrong. I didn't mean— You're free to go. Do as you please."

The promise of complete freedom was somewhat bittersweet, he concluded moments of heavy silence later. Yet Connor couldn't deny that they were all too alluring. Alluring enough to make him take a reluctant, faltering step backwards, away from (y/n).

She had picked up on it, gaze flicking to his moving foot for just a millisecond before returning to his face. Deep-rooted...sorrow was carved into her expression.

She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat, fished out a pair of glasses similar to hers. Connor realized she must've stolen them from one of the cops.

She fidgeted with them, finally breaking off a small piece and discarding of it before folding them neatly.

"Well...well then. Take these, you'll need them. I removed their tracker, so you should be able to use them." She took his hand in hers and pressed the object into the palm of his hand. "I don't want to...I-I don't know. It feels wrong to just-" She took a deep shaky breath. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. See this as a parting gift, or an apology, or...whatever. It's the least I can do."

There were so many feelings Connor could literally pour out of her voice, yet she didn't dare touch upon. Why exactly, he supposed would be a mystery.

Connor closed his fist around the object, watching (y/n) slowly back away without another word.

"Is this a goodbye?" He asked, slowly moving his gaze towards hers.

"Depends on what you wanna do. I'm not gonna force you into anything, not again."

He was a deviant, but Connor hadn't ever really gotten the chance to chose so freely. At least not like this. His impulsive side, one he had met rather recently, whispered sweet promises to him, of a better, carefree life, without boundaries or relationships or obligations. Just himself and nothing else. His rational one, however, was against it, literally screamed at him to go after (y/n), because she was still his best chance of survival.

"I don't know." Connor answered with unmistakable honestly. "I don't know."

"It's alright. Whatever you decide, you...you know where to find me."

(Y/n) sighed inaudibly and finally began walking away into the inky darkness, her silhouette disappearing as soon as she took a turn to her right, slow steps echoing down the tunnel.

And just this once, Connor decided to let his impulsive side win.

Besides, what was there better to do than exploring Detroit, a city he knew, yet didn't?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikolaj is pronounced “Me-kol-eye”

Connor quickly came to know hope. It was a deceivable little feeling, sweet, but not sickeningly so, just enough to make you want more. A thin thread you could strengthen with nothing but your own imagination and beautiful lies.

A very breakable, fragile thread, still.

He found himself walking down the street Hank's house had been on not more than 30 years ago. It was fairly recognizable, like a word written down on a piece of paper, over which someone had scribbled with a different colored pen. If you squinted just enough, it was there. Hardly, but still.

He came to a halt in front of Hank's old house. However quickly concluded that in this case, squinting did most certainly not help.

The once immaculate walls were coated in graffiti, different, dirtily colorful discarded food packages scattered all around the front yard, a broken sign that Connor easily guessed should've been saying "for sale" yet only spelled "r sale".

It wasn't abandoned, but not exactly in good shape either.

The last bit of hope he still had was the faint rap music coming from, what Connor guessed, was the inside of Hank's old home.

A certain reluctance and disdain was visible in his moves, yet Connor kept his posture straight, brushed the invisible dirt off the black coat, which he sorrowfully remembered belonged to Zlatko, and stepped up to the front door.

He knocked against it, subtly, with his knuckles at first, then with his fist, creating numb, skull-rattling sounds. Old habits die hard, he realized upon remembering the way he had acted when visiting Hank back in the day.

Persistence remained in his Thirium, even as a full-fledged deviant (he hoped he was, at least).

Slurred steps could be heard and suddenly the door opened, revealing a young man, with a quick, restless gaze that scanned over him, his brilliant amber eyes concealed by the neon purple of glasses similar to (y/n)'s. His hair was short, almost to the point of him looking bald, with a five o'clock shadow over his scalp and jaw. An undying smirk was plastered on his lips. The deviant approximated him to be roughly 18.

"Is it a cop?" Connor heard another voice—male, obviously— shout from inside the house, yet failed to identify a source.

"Dunno." The young man in front of him shouted back, then turned his full attention back to Connor. "Are you?"

"I am n-"

"Yeah, I know." He finally added and pulled up his glasses so that they rested on the top of his head. Upon realizing that Connor was trying to figure out what exactly had brought the man to this conclusion, he rushed to add. "It's the shoes. Undercover cops always wear good shoes, keep that in mind."

Connor couldn't help but let a small smirk slip as well. This boy, he seemed trustworthy. Quick, smart, cheeky. Connor couldn't deny his presence felt refreshing, yet somehow reminded him of (y/n) in a way he couldn't pinpoint.

"What's your name?"

"Connor." The deviant said firmly, and initiated a handshake. The young man smiled, balled his hand into a fist and bumped his knuckles against the Android's.

"Mikolaj. Or just Miko." He stepped backwards a few centimeters, leaning his forearm against the doorframe. "Why are you here?"

"An old friend used to live here, and I wanted to...see the house." Connor explained, and was surprised at how much true information he had divulged to a man he'd just met.

The boy huffed in amusement, then gestured towards the inside of the house.

"Well then, are you going to come in or do you need an invitation?"

"Seeing as I am already here, I believe a letter demanding my presence would be rather unnecessary." Connor answered, then stopped himself, realizing his response may have been a tad off. "Wait, you were being sarcastic, correct?"

Mikolaj only grinned, shook his head dismissively and returned inside the building, inviting Connor with a quick hand gesture. The deviant reluctantly followed.

An asphyxiating, sweet smell, combined with that of burnt plastic clawed down Connor's throat as soon as he had stepped inside the house.

"What was your friend's name, again?" He asked, guiding the deviant into what had once been the living room. It was unrecognizable, except for the old coffee table Hank used to have, as well as the bookshelf.

The nostalgia, that bittersweet feeling failed to appear and settle in his chest. He had expected it, prepared himself for it, but it was all for nothing. Too much had changed. Every trace of Hank had been erased, wether that was the work of Mikolaj, just time itself, someone else, or maybe all three, Connor didn't and couldn't know.

On the floor, he saw two other boys, one human, about the same age as Mikolaj, and one of them mechanical. They had pulled up an old table and crowded around it, a small device set on top of it, connected to the Android man's index fingers. What was that?

"Well?" Mikolaj stopped in the middle of his tracks, and Connor almost bumped against his smaller form. The deviant was quick to gather his thoughts and replay the young man's question in his head, figuring out what exactly he had meant.

"His name is Hank Anderson. Do you happen to know anything about his whereabouts or current state?"

"Hank...Hank Anderson...hmmm, let me see..." He traced his thumb over his lower lip as he thought. "Yeah, he lived here until '38 or '39, or so I've heard."

A spark of hope swelled in Connor's chest, and he immediately rushed in front of Mikolaj.

"What else?"

"How adorable." The young man looked at him over his purple neon glasses as they slowly slid down the bridge of his nose. "Information is not for free."

Connor suppressed a sigh of frustration. Was that really what 2064 was like? Deceiving, brooding, spiteful, materialistic. Not even one person he had stumbled across had showed him kindness and expected nothing for it. Except for (y/n), in a way.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?"

"Well, Connor, are you familiar with truck raiding?"


	16. Chapter 16

"Sit down, I'll introduce you." Mikolaj gestured towards the boys sitting at Hank's old coffee table, all of them glancing up at him with both disinterest and concealed curiosity.

"Pavel." He nodded at a rather short boy with blond hair, rather chubby cheeks, youthful, messy features. Roughly Mikolaj's age. "And the one on the verge of passing out over there is Vader." Jet black hair, dark, depthless, half-lidded eyes that gazed off into space. Android components. He was staring at a grafitti with his lips parted and a small bag of purple powder in his hand, wires of a pot-like device connected to his index fingers.

"Fuck off, I'm functioning." Vader answered, voice deep and rough, almost vibrating against Connor's sternum like the bass in a song. If his name was a nickname, Connor could, for once, actually fully grasp why.

"He's not. We're not taking him with if he's high." The short, blond one chimed in. "We need one more person."

"Three should be enough." Mikolaj insisted and firmly grabbed Connor's shoulder.

"Miko, my dude, truck raiding is a four man job."

Connor drew in a sharp breath. Truck raiding? How was that even supposed to work? And why would one need four people? 

He shook his head. He was doing this for Hank. For a presumably dead, or dying Hank, but still. For his old friend.

"Three." The boy insisted, grip tightening around the deviant's arm. 

"Not if we're working with a newbie like him." Pavel did quick gesture towards Connor, chubby face gaining a few creases when he frowned. "Yo, let's call Chico."

"No, he's out of town. And I can't afford waiting that long." Mikolaj let go of the deviant and started pacing around the room, as if to chase his own thoughts."Who else do we have?"

"Let's call your hot dealer ex."

Connor frowned, (y/n) popping in his head for a second. Though there certainly were other drug dealer girls out there, other than her.

"Fuck of, Pav."

"No, I'm serious. She's useful, and she's pretty to look at. The whole package. It's gonna be a pleasure working with her, if yanno what I'm sayin'."

"I said n-"

"Ve-lox! Ve-lox! Ve-lox!" The boy started chanting, banging his fist against the table, causing the device Vader was connected to to shake. The dark haired boy was rather unbothered by it, and instead joined in on the ruckus, shouting (y/n)'s alias along with Pavel. "Velooox!"

Connor opted to stay silent and conceal his shock the best he could. Who knew how these boys may react after they find out he's already acquainted with (y/n)?

"Alright, shut your whore mouth, I'm calling her." Mikolaj finally gave in and retreated into the kitchen, putting on the purple glasses.

Seconds later, he began talking, pacing around the smaller room, not quiet enough for the others not to hear him, but not loud enough for Connor to make out his words either.

"You're gonna like the chick, trust me." Pavel scooted closer to Connor and gestured for him to do the same. The deviant shyly obeyed, uncertain wether to trust him or not.

"What does she look like?" He wanted to make sure that he actually was thinking about the same Velox they were implying. Maybe someone else had the same Alias as her? There was a slim chance.

"I'm calling dibs on her, amigo, sorry."

"I apologize if I came off as someone meaning to court her, what I meant to say was...I may know someone with the same name, and I want to make sure that it's not a mere coincidence." Connor hastily explained. 

"Well, she's hot as fu-"

"I would like a more concise description, if possible. Perhaps tell me some distinctive details?" Connor interrupted the boy. "For instance, her hair."

"(H/c) with blue tips, I think. Oh and she's always wearing that weird coat that doesn't show off her body, which is really a shame if you ask me."

Connor concluded that attraction seemed to be very...dumbening. For some humans, at least. He was somewhat glad he hadn't experienced anything of the sort.

"Thank you."

"Well, she the one or not?"

"I'll be sure to let you know when we meet her."

"She said yes." Mikolaj interrupted their half-assed conversation, motioning for them to come hither.

Connor rose to his feet, glad to have the opportunity to get away from the two other boys. Vader, the passed out one, did seem somewhat alright, however the blond chubby one...the deviant couldn't exactly explain it, but even hearing his voice made his insides churn.

"Fuck yeah, let's go." Pavel was quick to walk past Mikolaj and out the door. Vader had barely managed to scramble to his feet, and was leaning against the wall for dear life. He ripped off the wires that were connected to his fingers and dropped them next to the pot-like device.

"What is that?" Connor asked and nodded at it while simultaneously tapping Mikolaj's shoulder.

"Oh, that, it's a dream machine."

"A what?"

"Don't tell me you've never seen one of these babes." The boy snorted, then stopped upon realizing Connor was serious. "It's only usable on machine bodies, and it increases the effects of Axy. It's like small electric impulses, or so I've heard. Taking Axy works without it too, it just makes it better."

Connor huffed. Humans always liked to come up with new ways of destroying themselves in pleasant ways, it seemed.

"Come on, we're picking up (y/n) at the overpass. And help Vader out a bit, would you?" Mikolaj smirked and gestured to the dark haired boy who had dropped to the floor again, this time, with a wide grin on his face. 

Before Connor could retort, Mikolaj had left, presumably outside.

The deviant sighed, kneeled next to the young man and pulled him up, positioning his arm around his shoulders to support and drag him outside.

Who would've thought that, 30 years after dragging a drunk old man through this house, he'd be in the exact same place again, but this time, with a junkie passing out against him?

Fate, if something of the sort did exist, truly was a rather cruel little thing.


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm the driver!" Pavel shouted as soon as Mikolaj had stopped beside a rather shabby, yet big car near Hank's house. Connor scanned it, yet was unable to identify its model.

"Fine, asshole." The short haired boy smirked and threw a bundle of keys at the chubby young man. "You're too fat to fit through the window anyways."

Fitting through the window? Why would any of them need to exit or enter through the car window?

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Get some better insults." Pavel answered with a shake of his head and opened the car, throwing himself onto the driver's seat.

"Mikolaj." Connor spoke up, dragging Vader behind him as he approached the boy.

"Yeah?"

"What do the car windows have to do with...well, anything?" He asked, changing Vader's position to be able to support him better.

"Oh, let's not spoil the surprise, alright?" Mikolaj smiled cheekily, to which a strange, uncomfortable feeling settled in Connor's stomach. Maybe he hadn't been born with instincts, but he was still willing to trust the emulations he had been endowed with after his deviancy. 

"I won't partake in whatever this is if you don't explain your so-called plan to me."

"Don't get cocky with me, you fucking Mecha." The boy hissed at him. "I make the rules. If you don't like them, leave. But know that you won't be finding out anything about your little friend."

Connor could only scoff, left without anything else smart to say. For the nth time in the past two days, he found himself having no choice.

"Connor, Vader, backseat." Mikolaj added smugly, glad to have won the argument and pointed at the car before settling down beside Pavel, who turned on the engine with a rumble.

With a grunt of displeasure, Connor pried the back door open and let the Vader stumble inside before entering as well. He had no idea what exactly he was getting himself into, and, quite frankly, disliked it. Connor inhaled sharply, watching Vader lean his head against the car window as he burst into low, throaty chuckles. Mikolaj and Pavel were both talking about something before Miko grabbed the steering wheel forcefully and moved to tower above the chubbier boy, who put his hands up in submission and nodded. Why the hell was he even going through with this? For Hank.

He was doing this for Hank.

"To the overpass, Pav." Mikolaj interrupted Connor's thoughts, earning himself a form nod from the chubby blonde.

"On it."

—

There was a small space under the bridge where Pavel pulled over, barely enough to fit roughly 5 cars, with some blankets and other things Connor realized must belong to the homeless, sprinkled all over the asphalt.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, a strong, salty-bitter smell of piss invaded his nostrils, causing him to let out a broken cough.

Since when can deviants smell?

"Some Febreze might come in handy to these guys." Pavel joked, and Mikolaj responded with a chuckle before spinning around on his heels to look for, Connor could only guess, (y/n). A few seconds passed as the boy continued to look around fruitlessly.

"Hm." Mikolaj finally gave up and tapped the tip of his shoe against the asphalt, biting the inside of his cheek. "She's not here."

"Yet." Pavel added sharply. "Want me to call her?"

"No, she should-"

The deviant heard steps from behind him, however his name was called out before he could react.

"Connor?" The voice was all too familiar.

The deviant spun around quickly, almost coming fave to face with none other than (y/n) herself, their noses almost touching. She backed away about 50 centimeters, putting some space between the two of them.

"...yes?" Connor asked, confusion clouding his chocolate eyes.

"You're— What—" Her gaze skipped back and forth between Mikolaj, Pavel, and Connor. The deviant could literally observe her thought process just by looking at her face. Confusion, realization and finally, fear. "You'll have to excuse us, boys." She forced a rather convincing smile before firmly grabbing Connor's wrist and tearing him away from the small group.

As soon as she made sure that they were out of earshot, she grabbed Connor by his shoulder and whirled him around.

"What do you think you're doing, hanging out with people like them?" (Y/n) whisper shouted, her grip on his shoulder only tightening.

"I could ask you the same." The android retorted with his classical diplomacy and a sympathetic, yet knowing smile.

"That's not the same thing, okay? They help me get by and make some cash, but you— You're still— This—" She finally sighed in disdain and massaged her temple with her pointer finger. "You're still innocent. You shouldn't get mixed up with people like Miko, or even that fucking Pavel."

"My actions are not for you to decide."

(Y/n) drew in a sharp breath, obviously reminded of that morning's events. Her eyes left his face for a second, focusing at the group of boys before returning to Connor.

"Play along."

"What?"

Without another word, (y/n) tiptoed, bringing the deviant into a soft hug, running her hands up and down his back, settling her chin on his left shoulder so that her mouth reached his ear.

"Pretend I'm telling you something romantic and smile, okay? It was starting to get suspicious, and this is the best way to keep them away." Her embrace around him tightened in the slightest. "I've got a plan."

What kind of plan? Why would they even need one?

The deviant decided to agree and see where it'd take him. (Y/n) still seemed somewhat more trustworthy than Mikolaj, in a way, he supposed. Connor didn't know. He really couldn't tell who he was supposed to lean on at this point. Yet...something told him (y/n) was his best bet.

"Alright." Connor picked up on the blood that rushed into his cheeks, for some reason, as well as the warmth that flooded his chest. What was that? "I'm listening."

"We're going to go with this, otherwise it's going to look weird if we leave like that." Her voice seemed almost strained, and Connor couldn't decide wether it was because she had to tiptoe or because of emotional reasons. Regardless of what it was, the deviant hoped to ease it by lowering himself in the slightest, curling his frame against hers as he did so, wrapping his arms around her middle. Connor picked up on the hitch in her voice, yet decided not to comment about it. "W-We're not going to take any of their profit, especially if it's not cash. Avoid any personal questions. Did you tell them your real n-"

"Yes."

"Fuck, okay." He could hear take a shaky breath before letting go and faking another smile. "Leave this to me, I'll get us out of this. I promise."


	18. Chapter 18

"Are the lovebirds back?" Vader was sitting on the edge of the backseat, his legs dangling outside the car, elbows rested on his thighs as he smiled at (y/n) and Connor.

"I was worried about him is all." (Y/n) retorted with an amused huff.

Her gaze skipped to Connor, then moved over to Mikolaj. 

"Worried? Why exactly?"

"A little trouble with the cops this morning, we got split up." (Y/n) explained hastily with a shake of her head and a convincing smile. She shoved her hands into her pockets. 

" 'Trouble with the cops'? Were you out dealing this morning? With him?" Mikolaj furrowed his brows and approached the two of them, head tilted as he stared Connor down. 

"Why do you care." (Y/n) retorted on the same snarky tone, and Connor could see her slide her hand into the pocket of her coat. Mikolaj was silenced for a few seconds, his thought process, as well as a sudden revelation (though Connor failed to identify about what precisely) readable off of his expression.

"I care because...that'd mean me and Connor over here have something to settle."

"I'm sorry?" The deviant tilted his head in confusion. "I don't think I can follow."

"Does the alias 'Freya' ring a bell? That's my-"

"Truck spotted, come on!" Pavel shouted from the drivers seat, causing Mikolaj to scoff and stab Connor in the chest with his index finger.

"This conversation is far from over." The boy added before making his way over to the car, followed by both (y/n) and Connor.

—

Pavel was driving behind a truck, needle on the speedometer trembling over 60 km/h.

"Alright let's do this. (Y/n), hood, Connor, passenger seat, Vader, stockpiling. I'll do the dirty work." Mikolaj explained with a few hasty words, and all of them, including (y/n) nodded.

Connor was even more confused. What was that supposed to mean?

As if she had read his mind, (y/n) leaned over to him, whispering. "Don't worry, all you have to do is move to the passengers seat once Miko gets out. And hand over whatever I give you to Vader."

That sounded easy enough, Connor concluded, something shiny in the corner of his eye catching his attention. Mikolaj had pulled out a knife and took it between his teeth before opening the window.

He grabbed onto the roof of the car, squeezing his body through the window. As the car was moving. With 60 km/h.

Connor could literally feel his Thirium freeze with what humans called anxiety.

The probability of something going wrong was roughly 70%.

Seconds later, after Connor could only catch a glimpse of Mikolaj's ankle as he pulled himself onto the roof, he heard the metal above him squeak as the boy rose to his feet.

"Now you." Pavel nodded at (y/n). "Connor, here." The chubby boy pointed at the passenger seat.

"Wait—" Connor blurted out as (y/n) also rolled down the window. "Are— What—"

"I've done this before." She smiled and pat the top of his thigh in a almost joking manner. "Trust me."

Connor could only watch as she did the same thing as Mikolaj, lifting herself onto the roof, through the window.

Seconds later, Connor's head whipped towards the hood of the car, where a dangerously loud bang! had resonated.

Mikolaj had jumped onto the hood.

Through the windshield, he saw the boy mouth "closer" to Pavel, then gesture at the truck.

The chubby blond nodded hastily and increased the speed, causing the car's bumper to almost touch the truck's back wheels.

Mikolaj responded with a nod and an okay sign, his jaw clenching around the knife. And before Connor even knew it, he had leapt off the hood of the car, onto the back of the truck. Mikolaj took the knife out of his mouth and forced it between the two doors, moving to open one of them and disappearing inside the truck.

(Y/n) carefully slid down the windshield, her soles squeaking against it as she stopped on the hood.

His thirium pump regulator palpitated, causing the blue liquid to rush through his body and his muscles to tense.

Probability of injury: 60%

"Connor, passenger seat. Do I really have to repeat myself?" Pavel looked at him through the rearview mirror for just a few seconds before focusing on the road again.

Ignoring his instincts, Connor shook his head no and forced himself between the two front seats, onto the one on the boy's right.

Meanwhile, Mikolaj had opened both back doors of the truck, and held a package with a logo Connor recognized all too well.

Memotran Pieces

Produced by Cyberlife, in Detroit, Michigan.

He threw it at (y/n), who easily caught it before carefully turning around and looking at Connor. Quickly processing what he had to do, the deviant moved to lean his right side out of the window and take the box out of the girl's hands.

Fingers working deftly, he managed to unlock the small box and peeked inside.

A cubical device with three sharp spikes attached to one side. The device that had been lodged into his nape when he had woken up.

Beside it, something black, slim, similar to a...bottle? Connor wanted to open it, yet was interrupted by none other than Vader's deep bass voice.

"Gimme that, big boy." He heard Vader speak up behind him, and complied, handing the package over to the brunet, who took it out of his hands and placed it inside the trunk.

Soon enough, Connor received another box from (y/n), and another.

It continued for a few solid minutes until Vader announced with proud satisfaction that they were all out of stocking space.

Connor had forwarded the message to (y/n), who finally motioned for Mikolaj to stop.

After that, she climbed back onto the roof, and had, only seconds later, swung herself back inside the car, with Vader complaining that she had treaded on his jeans.

"Backseat, Connor." Pavel told Connor, who only scoffed and told him that he was exactly planning on that.

He squeezed through the space between the front seats once again, and sat down between (y/n) and Vader.

Mikolaj had also made it onto the passengers seat in the meantime.

"Holy shit, this was so fun!" He heard (y/n) squeak in excitement and grab Connor's hands, pressing them to her face, more precisely, her cheeks. "My face got so cold because of the wind, feel it!"

The deviant couldn't help but chuckle at her behavior and watch her face get squished between his palms. He had to admit that there was something rather enticing about noticing how plump her lips looked in that moment, and listening to her cheerful giggle. Absolute music to his ears.

"It's good to see you haven't suffered any injuries."


	19. Chapter 19

Mikolaj was grinning widely, leaning against the car as he talked to Vader, Pavel and (y/n). Connor had to admit that he felt like more of a bystander than anything, a spectator watching a movie in an almost foreign language. The only things he did pay attention to were all the smiles the young woman had faked, and Pavel taking a small bag out of his shoe. Connor didn't even have to analyze it to know what it was. Axyfomodium.

He opened it, poured some powder out on the back of his hand, brought it to his lips and tossed it into his mouth.

The chubby boy closed his eyes as if he were savoring some kind of rare delicacy, only to be nudged by Vader, who only smirked at him knowingly. Pavel shook his head dismissively.

"(Y/n), want some?" He tilted his head as he looked at the young woman.

As if Connor had just emerged from underwater, that sentence was the first thing he had managed to make out from the cluster of words. The punch of air that brought him back to life and made his processors whir.

She waved off dismissively with another meticulously fabricated smile. "You know I don't, Pav." 

"C'mon, just once."

"No thanks."

"You deal the stuff! What's so wrong with having some of it too?" Pavel poured some more purple powder onto the back of his hand and held it out to her.

"I mean, he's right." Mikolaj shrugged. "Never knew why you always refused."

"I just don't go there, boys. Sorry."

"Let the girlie play by her own rules. That jus' means there's more Axy for me." Vader smiled goofily and grabbed a hold of Pavel's hand, forcing it towards his face.

"Hey now, she should at least try it." The chubby boy insisted, freeing his wrist out of the other's grasp, then approaching (y/n), throwing one arm over her shoulders and bringing the one with Axyfomodium up to her face. "Come on, love."

The wires inside Connor's metaphorical stomach twisted in displeasure at both the sight right in front of him and at the fact that (y/n)'s stress levels had increased by 10%.

"Alright, I believe that's enough." The devaint wrapped his fingers around Pavel's wrist, moving it away from (y/n)'s face. 

Her stress levels dropped almost immediately.

"Yoooo, Miko, check this out. He's almost acting like your mom's fucking dogs!"

Connor's brows furrowed at the statement, and if he would've still had it, his LED would probably be going red.

What was that supposed to mean?

That only earned a shrug and a small laugh from Mikolaj. "If you say so."

"I mean look at him! Whenever (y/n) leaves, he has that puppy dog look on that perfect fucking face of his. And you can't even touch the girl without him being on your goddamn tail!" Pavel ranted, his gaze finding Connor's and not leaving it even for a second. "It's like he's her guard dog or something."

"It appears that the difference between us is the fact that you believe a good way of socializing is feeding your friends drugs, whereas I try to keep the people I care about in good condition. I apologize if that bothers you." 

"Wow, look at him being all smart!" Sarcasm was literally dripping off of Pavel's sentence. "Too bad it's all brains and no guts."

All brains and no guts?

Oh, he'll show this idiot guts.

Thirium pump pounding with anger, blood rushing with hate, Connor tightened his grip around Pavel's wrist, harshly enough for his scanners to inform him he had momentarily cut off blood supply to his hand before slowly forcing it up to the boy's face.

"All of it." Connor growled.

"What?"

"The powder. Snort it. All of it."

"Look, chum, I— I've already had some, and too big of a portion—"

"Do I look like I care for your well-being?" The deviant pressed the back of Pavel's hand to his face, causing the purple powder to stick to his already slightly sweat-slickened skin. He put his other hand on the back of Pavel's head, holding it in place as he continued pressing the drug to his mouth. "I said-"

"Connor, that's enough." 

He hadn't even realized how erratically he had been breathing, and completely ignored the various warnings in the edge of his field of vision, announcing his slightly overheating systems.

(Y/n)'s hand on his shoulder, in spite of not being particularly forceful, was enough to make him let go of the shorter boy and back away.

"Thank you for the truckraiding, Miko. I had fun." (Y/n) smiled at him, then at Vader and finally at Pavel, who was holding onto the trunk of the car, still staring at Connor fearfully, vulgar purple smudged over his nose and upper lip. "Vader, Pavel." She nodded at the both of them, then tugged Connor away.

"Hey, Connor." Miolaj spoke up, trotting to catch up with them. "A promise is a promise. Hank Anderson used to live in that house earlier. As far as I've been told, he shot himself right after the revolution, and his corpse had only been found after a few weeks. That's why no-one wanted to buy the house."

Connor had never eaten, nor would ever need to. Yet at that moment, he felt like coughing up whatever his inner components were.

Hank had killed himself. Because of him.

(Y/n) was still holding his wrist, dragging Connor after herself almost carefully, away from Mikolaj.

"Don't you want your part?" The boy shouted after the two of them.

"No, we're fine." She responded, not looking back.

—

The way to (y/n)'s home had been a daze of harlequin, neon colors, unfamiliar voices and of a setting sun painting the buildings in orange.

Hank had killed himself because of him.

Connor only found himself becoming self-aware the moment (y/n) had opened the door to her boat and looked at him expectantly.

"Con?"

"Why did you bring me here?"

She stopped in the middle of squeezing inside the small space, opting to return outside and look at him questioningly.

"Oh, um...Do you want to leave? You're free to do that, if that's what you mean. I just...I thought...I don't know." She massaged her temples and finally sighed.

"Why are you bringing me into your home after what I did to your friend?" The Android tilted his head, brows furrowing and hands balling into fists. He knew humans were unpredictable, he had experienced it one too many times with Hank, after all, but this was something different. She literally had no reason to be doing this.

"Come on, Pavel being my friend? In his wildest dreams, sure." She scoffed. "I was just thinking that...I don't know. It just feels nice to have someone watch my back."

"What do you mean?"

"You stood up for me, Connor." She smiled, honestly, sincerely, creases forming on the edge of her (e/c) eyes, which had now been turned almost golden by the setting sun. "Thank you for that."

(Y/n) gave him an awkward side-hug, then giggled and looked back at the small door, muffled sounds of a xylophone ringing out from the other side.

"Thank you too." Connor answered, though he wasn't exactly sure what for, aside from the fact that it had been nothing but a whisper, and followed her inside.


	20. Chapter 20

He still didn't know what exactly he had done to deserve this. This sense of homeliness, right in the middle of this hostile environment the Detroit he used to know had morphed into. 

Xylo cuddled against him, little fluffy head set on the top of his left thigh, and (y/n) preparing some Mac'n Cheese for one only a few meters away. The deviant had never been particularly interested in food, yet at that moment, couldn't deny that it did smell rather enticing. Aside from the fact that watching (y/n) pacing around the kitchen, mumbling things, sometimes even humming some soft, playful tunes to herself was already rather entertaining by itself.

Connor hadn't even noticed when exactly she stopped doing it until she plopped down next to him, plastic plate in one hand, spoon in the other. (Y/n)'s lips curved into a fragile, lopsided smile as she scooted onto the bed further.

"I've been thinking." She began, then scooped up some of the food and stuffed it into her mouth.

"About what?" Connor asked as he absentmindedly ran a hand over Xylo's head, who let his ears down and closed his eyes peacefully. His fur was so soft and pleasant to touch, Connor noticed.

Since when had he started feeling, physically? Being able to smell? Had it happened the moment he turned into a deviant, and had he just been too caught up in the whole situation to notice?

Maybe it had been Cyberlife at fault. If they could resume control of him, they must've been able to have control over his physical receptors too, correct? But then again, why would he have been equipped with physical receptors?

And what would it feel like to touch human skin? To feel every little pore, imperfection and scar? The warmth, the naturalness of it. Would it feel different compared to his own, or was he a perfect copy? What would it feel like to run his hands over (y/n)? A tingle ran over his palms as he remembered what cupping her face had been like. Real. Raw. 

The deviant let a sigh of defeat slip.

"Multiple things, I guess. For one, I was wondering...if you can smell things? Taste them? I know you don't need food, but I couldn't help but think about it. While I was cooking." She shrugged nonchalantly. 

"I've never ingested any food, if that answers your question." Connor spoke, still focused on Xylo, moving his hand to scratch the back of the dog's neck. "However it appears that I am able to sense smells."

" 'It appears'? You mean...you don't know for sure?"

"It's...rather difficult to explain. As a machine, you don't...you don't exactly pick up on some aspects. All that matters is the mission. The rest is background noise. Sensations, feelings, other people—they're not even there." The deviant's brows furrowed as he stopped petting Xylo and began fidgeting with his hands. "So I cannot— I don't know if I'm filling in the gaps, or if I'm actually feeling things."

"Hm." (Y/n) played around with the mac on her plate, moving them to form a circle in the middle of it as she thought. "What do you sense right now?"

"I-" Connor stuttered out, performing a motion that would've resulted in the cracking of his knuckles if he were a human, yet was completely soundless in his case. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that."

"Just name whatever's going through your head." She broke the perfect circle of macaroni she had created and ate another bit.

"Confused. I feel confused, I think. And... at the same time, sheltered...? Safe? Is that possible? Wouldn't those two emotions cancel themselves out?" He rambled, then stopped to look at his hands.

"Not necessarily." (Y/n) chewed on her bottom lip as she seemed to be thinking. "Why do you feel confused?"

He took quite some time to answer.

"I...have a few questions." He finally stuttered out, and kneaded his hands.

"Shoot." (Y/n) smiled before adding with a smile and a glint in her eye: "Not literally, though."

Connor let a lopsided smirk slip as well. He did appreciate the fact that she was trying to lighten the mood. "Why didn't you want to take the drugs? I—" He sucked in a sharp breath, realizing the sentence hadn't left the impression he wanted it to. "I mean— I'm not— I'm just curious about your motives."

"It's because I've seen it." (Y/n) answered and didn't look up from her plate. "How it eats away at you. How you deny that it does, how you tell yourself that whatever you're going through is normal. How it swallows up your personality, your quirks, and leaves you with an empty slate of...nothing. Once you start, you're fucked. And I know better than that."

"Oh." Was the only answer Connor could muster. An analysis wasn't even necessary for him to be able to tell that there must've been some rather...scarring event in her past to shape such strong opinions. "I see."

(Y/n) hummed and stood up, walking back into the improvised kitchen, where she threw away the plastic plate and washed the fork.

"Do you have anything in mind for tomorrow?" Connor's social programs rushed to make up a sentence that could fill in the gap of silence. He seemed to have succeeded.

(Y/n) took a few seconds to think about it, then turned around as she was drying off the cutlery with a tissue. "I'll have to go out in town and sell some more. But um... tomorrow's... Thursday, right? Or is it Friday?"

"Thursday."

"Okay, good." (Y/n) leaned against the sink and traced her thumb over her lower lip as she thought. Connor suddenly felt synthsaliva gathering in his mouth, and swallowed it down. "I'm going to another club, Chicken Hawks, tomorrow. It's usually full on Thursdays, and I sell out pretty quickly. And...you're free to tag along, if you feel like it." 

Connor smiled sincerely. "I'd very much like to."


	21. Chapter 21

The rest of the evening was spent in mostly comfortable silence, and (y/n) asking Connor for the glasses she had given him this morning.

She had demonstrated a few things one could do with them, such as analyzing chemical compounds of several substances just by looking at them, or, with a few tricks and a little bit of frustration, configure them to have access to the police database, and be able to physically identify almost any individual. 

Connor thought it to be rather helpful and interesting, and had bombarded the young woman with questions about where she had learned to do such things.

"Well, Vader used to be really good at...anything that has to do with Horomas." She nodded at the glasses in her hands, then flicked a small switch with the edge of her fingernail. "Horomas are not as complex as computers, and a lot easier to understand. Or so he claimed. He showed me a few tricks, but I'll never be as good as he was. Him and Miko always had a knack for technology." Connor could see a fond smile spread on her features. "I miss him."

"But you've seen him less than 12 hours ago." The deviant furrowed his brows in confusion as (y/n) unfolded the Horomas and placed them on her face.

"Yeah, but...he's not exactly there." She scoffed bitterly as the lenses flickered purple again, numbers flashing before her eyes. "Oh well, let's drop the subject. Here. They should have a few more tricks up their sleeve now." She took them off, then placed them on Connor's face, smiling when a tuft of hair fell down his forehead. With a quirky smile, she twirled it around in her hand, forming it into a spiral before letting it slide off her fingers. The deviant had the sudden urge to smile, and felt blood rush to his face before he could even process, much less stop it.

(Y/n) had obviously noticed, yet only watched him in slight wonder.

Connor looked down at his hands, and almost smirked when letters flickered on the lenses, indicating that they were limbs with Android components. Obviously. His gaze moved over to (y/n), focused on her face. 

(Y/n) (l/n)  
Age: 19  
Criminal record: Drug dealing, speeding, murder

Wait, murder?

"Murder?" Connor asked, voicebox malfunctioning and jumping up a few octaves.

"Yeah. The cops we killed, genius." She shook her head in slight amusement. "Your face was priceless, by the way."

Oh.

"I— I was just...confused." He clarified quickly.

"What else can you access?" She asked with a cheeky smile that made Connor eager to dig for more information.

"Birthplace, Detroit, Michigan. Born on the (day) of (month) in 2045."

"Well then, glad to see it works." (Y/n) smiled and stood up without another word. Connor managed to access one last information.

(M/n) (l/n) [DECEASED]  
Father unregistered

"Oh, and one more thing, Con."

Connor hadn't even realized he was staring at the floor. His gaze snapped up in surprise at the nickname, finding (y/n)'s immediately.

"I noticed you fidget a lot, so, I thought it might come in handy if I told you not to mess with..." She took a hold of his hand and guided it up to his temple, to the hinges of the glasses. "Feel that little switch right there?" She pressed her fingers over his. "Don't play with it, it's a pretty vital component."

"I had a coin." He blurted out, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

She let go of his hand and tilted her head curiously.

"Say again?"

"I remembered that I used to have a coin. That I would fidget with." Connor continued, lowering his hand from the side of his Horomas as he tried to think back to when he had last seen it. "I must've lost it."

(Y/n) hummed and stared at the floor before her eyes glinted almost playfully.

"Wait, I know just the thing." 

He did as he was told, watching (y/n) as she lazily trotted over to her improvised kitchen, starting to dig through the cabinets.

She returned with something transparent in her hands, plopping back down beside Connor. The young woman handed him the object, which was slightly bigger than a coin, yet equally flat and round, with a round structure on one side that alluded to the fact that it was some sort of bottle cap. A small thermometer was incorporated into it, and above it, written in Cyberlife sans: 

Memobottle ™

Manufactured by Cyberlife

"What is this?" He asked, furrowing his brows as he inspected it more closely, smiling upon noticing that the thermometer was broken.

"It's the cap of a Memobottle." She smiled. "It's one of the things we raided today. They can be used to contain memories for extended time periods, up to like 50 years or something. You can transfer them onto any kind of Memotran body during that time. It's useful for people that can't afford buying a body just yet. For instance, let's say someone has a son that's in the end phase of leukemia and they're all outta money. Just buy one o' these, put your kid's memories onto it, and put it to use once you have enough money."

"That sounds...oddly specific." Connor remarked as he placed it on his index and flicked it into the air with his thumb, catching it easily.

"Yeah, that's...Ahad. I mean, you know him as Vader. It's Vader's story." She huffed. "We used to be good friends, probably because our moms were pretty close. And he introduced me to Mikolaj."

"Was this the cap to his bottle?"

(Y/n) snorted. "No, it's one I found on the streets once."

Connor gave it another flick, then caught it mid-air and gave it back to (y/n).

She shook her head dismissively and stood up to discard of her empty plate. "You can keep it. I think I'm gonna go to bed."


	22. Chapter 22

He could certainly get used to tranquility, that much, Connor was sure of. He could get used to watching (y/n) sleep, her nose twitching sometimes, occasional shivers running down her spine. She looked...different like this. A good kind of different.

Connor took out the Memobottle cap and gave it another flick before storing it in his jacket again. He wouldn't want to disturb her.

"Good to know that you like it."

The deviant flinched, his gaze skipping back to (y/n). Increasing heart rate and breathing rhythm.

"Pardon?" Connor tilted his head, processing her words.

"The bottle cap. It's nice to see that you like it." She gave him a worn out smile and shifted on her small bed, sitting up.

Sensing the change of mood, Xylo trotted up to her and jumped onto the bed, cuddling up against her side. (Y/n) squeaked in pleasant surprise and ran a hand over the fur on the dog's head, smoothing it down.

"Would you like me to make you some breakfast?"

"No, I'll do that. But first...Stay with me for a little while." She pat a spot on the bed beside her, then picked up the white fluffy dog, setting him in her lap.

Connor complied, silently sitting down next to her.

Silence settled over the small boat, nothing but both his internal cooling fans and (y/n)'s breathing audible for what Connor estimated to be 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

"This feels nice." (Y/n) concluded.

"Does it?" The deviant asked. "I thought humans disliked silence."

"Depends on who you're with, I guess." She shrugged and ran another hand over Xylo, stopping to scratch his nape. "I missed this."

"What exactly?" Connor shifted in the slightest to be able to look at her face, pleasantly surprised to find out that her eyes were closed peacefully.

"Just waking up with someone around. Someone that's, for once, not a stranger, nor someone I need a favor from." She sighed and rested the side of her head against Connor's shoulder. "Mornings are so lonely, y'know? I try to combat them with music and whatnot, but...an actual person is better."

An actual person?

The term both scared and flattered him. (Y/n) considered him a person. Aside from Hank, she had been the first one to do that. Connor knew he was a deviant, but there still was a difference between having a personality, wishes, desires, dreams, compared to just free will. Free will was just the basic notion every deviant had to work with to reinvent themselves.

"Thank you." He blurted out before he even processed it properly.

"For what, Con?"

His thirium pump seemed to skip a beat at the nickname. And stop besting entirely when (y/n) started tracing patterns over his bare forearm with the fingertip of her index.

"For...considering me a person."

The feathery touches of her fingers stopped, and she instead wrapped them around his wrist, giving it an almost affectionate squeeze. "Of course. It's what I should've done from the beginning."

Connor saw her look at his face, then his neck, and finally at the string that continued under his white shirt. The necklace that held his LED.

"What time is it?" (Y/n) changed the subject, stretching out her legs, muscles trembling for a few solid seconds. The quirks of the human body, Connor noticed with a smile.

"Roughly 7 AM."

"That gives us a lot of time. Do you wanna go out for breakfast?"

"I— Yes, actually."

"There's a bakery nearby, they've got the best pastries I've ever had." She rose to her feet and took out some fresh clothes from her nightstand. "Gimme a few minutes and we're good to go."

—

Connor had put on the black coat, to cover up the rather messy state of his other clothes. He had no need to change them, but still wanted to look somewhat presentable.

So there he was, sitting across from (y/n) at a small table in the bakery she had told him about, with her hastily eating up a croissant. He fidgeted with the ripped grey collar of his shirt, and (y/n) was quick to pick up on it.

"We can go buy you clothes too. Tomorrow's payday from Odin, and if we manage to sell a lot, it should't be a problem at all." She explained, gliding her tongue over her lower lip to pick up the crumbs that stuck to it. 

"I very much appreciate that." He answered with a smile, then took a cautionary look around. (Y/n) was strangely relaxed for being a criminal that publicly showed her face. "However...do you believe it's wise to make a public appearance like this?"

"Don't worry, I know where patrols usually fuck around, and trust me, this sweet little spot is not one of those places." She took another bite of her croissant, one particularly big crumb getting stuck to her cheek. "Relax."

"Alright." Connor sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the small wooden chair.

"Besides, who do you think is gonna rat us out?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Everyone's a little illegal around here. They have to be."

"Do you believe that justifies things?" Connor asked thoughtfully.

"What exactly?"

"The fact that you do illegalities to get by. Does survival give grounds for all actions?" The deviant asked, taking out the bottle cap and giving it a flick, catching it between his index and middle finger before shoving it back into his coat.

"Well, Socrates," (Y/n) began with a playful smirk. "I don't know about you, but...my mom always said the end justifies the means. Survival is a fairly noble cause, isn't it?"

"From an individual point of view, it's rather selfish. Biologically speaking however, it contributes to the survival of the human race as a whole, so, perhaps it's more of a blend between egoism and altruism." Connor concluded, and seemed rather satisfied with his answer.

(Y/n) flashed him a cheeky smirk.

"Who knew Androids could be philosophers?"


	23. Chapter 23

"I mean, it's not Gucci, but it should do." (Y/n) cackled to herself, then looked at Connor over her shoulder. "Whatddya think?"

"It seems to be a decent shop. I've looked up reviews, and it appears the price-quality ratio has been determined as satisfactory by most clients." He answered, blinking away the numbers flickering on his Horomas.

"Well then."

A few minutes later, they were inside the small shop, wandering around between the aisles.

"First things first, black coat. We're returning this one to Zlat." She pointed at Connor as she talked, hands behind her back. "A shirt, pants, a hoodie...and shoes, right, of course. Um..." She stopped in her tracks and looked at him with an amused smile. "Do Androids even need underwear?"

"I believe not." Connor answered nonchalantly. "The only use I have for clothes is to fit societal norms. Technically speaking I-"

"Save me the details, Con. All that matters is that it saves me a few bucks." (Y/n) laughed and stopped by the shirt section. "Anything specific in mind?"

"Not exactly."

"Well then." She tapped her chin, and looked at him, took a few steps away as if to look at the bigger picture, then concluded. "I bet you look great in black. Or mustard, maybe? Ooooh, how about brown, to bring out your eyes?"

"You seem to be enjoying this." Connor smiled lopsidedly.

"Why wouldn't I? It's like playing dress up with my friends back in the day." (Y/n) explained as she browsed through the array of shirts, then spoke up. "What size are you?"

"I'm exactly 6 foot tall."

"Okay, that'd make you a...XL? I think?" (Y/n) mumbled, more to herself than to anyone in particular, then selected two shirts. One chocolate brown and plain, the other mustard, with a simple, horizontal black line over the chest. "Hold these."

Connor happily obliged, then followed her further down the aisle. This should be fun.

—

"You done?" (Y/n) asked from the other side of the curtain from the changing room.

Connor rolled back his shoulders, adjusting the mustard shirt, smoothing it down, and checked the black jeans again. Good enough, he concluded with a satisfied smile.

"Yes." He answered and pulled away the curtain, revealing himself to (y/n).

"Fuck, you look amazing! Who would've thought yellow would look this great on you?" She almost squealed, walking around him to take him in from all angles. Connor could only chuckle at her enthusiasm.

"Okay, coat!" She smiled and handed him a dark brown one that almost reached his knees, with a wide collar at the front. "Put it on."

Connor took it from her and slithered his arms inside the sleeves, then buttoned it up before turning around to preen himself in the mirror.

"Woaaaah..." (y/n) was speechless, and Connor could only try to stifle a laugh at her expression. The coat made his shoulders appear even wider than they already were, and compared to his Cyberlife jacket, puffed out his chest more. Connor popped the collar, but then decided to smooth it back down instead. "Don't care how much this costs, I'm buying it."

"You should probably manage your money better, (y/n)." Connor smiled at her reflection almost smugly, to which she shrugged.

"I mean, I was saving up for an Android body, but, who needs that when I've got you?" The young woman smiled back at him. "Besides, we can't have you walking around in Zlatko's coat for years. That'd just be...tasteless."

"I'm sorry, but since when are drug dealers supposed to be fashionable?"

"Since when aren't they?" (Y/n) grinned, then nodded for Connor to follow her to the checkout. "Come on."

—

"What do you have in mind?" Connor asked, following (y/n) down a crowded street, hands stuffed in the fuzzy pockets of his coat. The January cold didn't bother him, but it certainly felt welcoming to have something to keep him warm.

"Well, I was thinking that I'd take you to Chandler Park on our way back to the boat, drop off your old clothes there, and after that, we can go to the club, sell some more. You don't have to, of course. You can just...stay home, or go out, or...whatever you want."

"Shouldn't we perhaps give back Zlatko's coat?"

"No, he hates visitors during the day. Who even knows what he does in that dark hole he lives in." (Y/n) scoffed and shook her head as she walked. "Probably fucks modified Androids all day long."

"How does he earn a living?"

"Doesn't need to, he's a mecha. And he doesn't have to pay bills for living in an abandoned metro station." The young woman shrugged. "As long as he gets his Axy, he's happy."

"That's rather..." Connor began, unable to identify a fitting word for the described situation.

"Depressing, yeah." 

"I suppose you strive for more, then?" The deviant began, hoping to come off as...sensible and thoughtful? He didn't know what exactly he had been trying to do.

"What's that supposed to mean?" (Y/n) asked with an amused huff.

"Do you hope to one day improve your living conditions, for instance?"

"I mean, yeah. But that's..." She let a small sigh of tiredness slip. "That's gonna take quite a while."

"I'll gladly help." Connor interrupted with an encouraging smile.

"You're too sweet." (Y/n) reciprocated the gesture and moved closer to Connor, linking her arm around his. "Thank you."

Core temperature: +5 degrees

A message in his vision prompted up, and Connor rushed to close it, as if (y/n) could see it, somehow.

As soon as it was gone, the deviant tilted his face towards the young woman, only to realize she was already looking at him with an amused glint in her eye.

"What's the matter?" The deviant asked, voice faltering at the end of the sentence.

"Your blush is blue, did you know that?" She snickered. Connor could only look away sheepishly, in a hopeless attempt to avoid her gaze. "It's so cute."

Those words were enough to make his core temperature jump up another two degrees.


	24. Chapter 24

The park was very eye-catching, in its own way. There wasn't anything particularly prestigious or lavish about it, however it impressed with simplicity. If Connor would've had to chose one word to describe it, he would've most certainly chosen minimalistic.

Simple trees, simple, dried out, clean-cut bushes around them, and a drained fountain not too far away. Perhaps winter wasn't the best time to visit the place, but Conor didn't have anything against witnessing the uglier side of nature as well.

After all, it was still a part of the cycle, wasn't it?

The deviant smiled lopsidedly, letting (y/n) guide him through the park, half-heartedly listening to the stories she told him.

"Oh, and that fountain over there is just the best thing ever during summer, trust me! Me and Ahad used to dip our feet in it and have ice cream from a truck nearby when we were kids. Oh, and that tree over there, see it?" She gave his sleeve an inquisitive tug, and Connor followed the place she was pointing at with his gaze.

A rather big tree, roughly 15 meters tall, its leafless branches spread widely, was in the middle of a field-like space.

"Yes."

"It's where I had my first kiss." (Y/n) snickered. "It was so dumb, we were both having bacon flavored chips. It tasted horrible, never have bacon chips when you're kissing someone, trust me on that."

Connor chuckled at her statement.

And then started to wonder what bacon flavored chips must taste like.

"What else?" He asked.

"Hm." (Y/n) furrowed her brows. "A lot of other things, but just...smaller stuff. Like, nothing worthy to listen to." 

"I like listening to y-"

"Look at that, it's Sarah Connor and the Terminator." Connor's gaze snapped away from (y/n), towards the source of the familiar voice.

It was Mikolaj, padding towards them, two leashes wrapped around each of his forearms like two vices, muscles straining against the pull of two collared up dobermans.

"Are you seriously referencing 80 year old movies at me, Mikolaj Jasko?" (Y/n) snorted and shook her head. 

"Why not." He answered with a grin, which however quickly faded as one of the dogs pulled hard enough to make him stumble forward.

"Get your animals under control." (Y/n) shook her head with disapproval and amusement.

"Can't, they only listen to mom." The boy answered with a goofy smile, then looked at Connor. "Nice coat."

"Thank you." 

"Hey, uh, thought I'd give you your profit, by the way. Y'know, from yesterday."

"It's not-" (Y/n) began.

"It's in cash, just the way you like it." Miko insisted and slithered a hand inside his pocket, pulling out a few 50 dollar bills. "Buy yourself something nice."

"You wish, Miko." (Y/n) scoffed and took the money from him hastily, and stuffed it inside her pocket. 

"Well then, see you two around." He smiled politely and gave in to the pulling of the leash, running down the street with the dogs, accidentally brushing against Connor's shoulder as he did.

"He was..." (Y/n) began.

"Suspiciously polite." Connor continued, earning himself a nod from the young woman. 

"Wonder why." She huffed, then shook her head. (Y/n) reached inside the pocket of her coat and pulled out the money.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked almost anxiously, rushing to stand in front of her to somewhat cover up the fact that she was literally looking through a stash of illegally made 50 dollar bills.

"I have a burning suspicion." She muttered under her breath, flipping through every single bill like the pages of a novel, stopping at what seemed to be a random one. "Knew it." She smiled cheekily and reached for Connor's hand.

"What exactl-"

"Feel it." She instructed, brushing his fingers over the surface of the bill. There was a small, almost unnoticeable bump on the face of the Ulysses Grant print.

"There's—"

"A small bump, yeah." Her eyes met his through her lashes. "Know what that is?"

Connor furrowed his brows. A fabrication mistake?

"A tracker." (Y/n) spat after a few seconds, taking out the bill and ripping it in two, right through the middle of the face printed on it. A small, thin, chip-like device fell to the floor, so tiny, Connor could've almost sworn it was a little stone. 

"But why would-"

(Y/n) stomped over it, moving her shoe back and forth over it. "No idea. And I don't like where this is going."

Without another word, she split the stash in two, and handed one half to Connor.

"Look through it, see if you find any other trackers." She shook her head and chuckled ironically. "At least Mikolaj was kind enough to give us real money still, so I guess there's that."

"But why would anyone be after you, aside from the police?" Connor whispered as he continued flipping through the stash, finding nothing.

"Why wouldn't they? I have the horrible habit of pissing a lot of people off." (Y/n) muttered, feeling one bill, subconsciously shaking her head no and storing it back into her pocket.

"Do you know anything about Mikolaj's relationships?"

"Don't get me started, detective." (Y/n) smiled to herself. "His mom is Odin's right hand after all."

"He's— Mikolaj is Freya's son?" Connor sucked in a breath, in spite of not needing it. Of course, the dogs. They were the same as the ones from Odin's hideout, the one that were sitting at Freya's feet. "What could Odin want from you?"

"Payday's tomorrow, so I honestly don't know." A visible shudder went through her body as she stuffed the entire stash back into her pocket. "Though— Why him? I— Shit, that's..." (Y/n) bit her lip, tapping her foot against the asphalt and ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck, what if I really did piss him off? I'm practically dead!"

She began pacing around, almost running off.

Connor was quick to catch up with her.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that we probably don't have much time left to live if we really did somehow piss off Odin."


	25. Chapter 25

"(Y/n)." Connor spoke firmly, following her through the park, towards Lake St. Clair.

"Shit, what did I do?!" She bit her lip and didn't cease walking, instead increased her rhythm. Connor increased his speed, enough to not only catch up with her, but position himself in front of her and grab her shoulders.

"(Y/n)." He repeated. "You are not being rational."

"No shit, Sherlock! The biggest druglord in Detroit wants me dead!" She whisper-shouted.

Stress level: 80%

"You are acting based on nothing but mindless, half-arsed conclusions." The deviant hoped his voice sounded firm enough to break through her anxiety and actually get to her. "And that highly lessens your chance of survival. Now calm down. Sync your breath with mine."

15 breaths per minute are considered average, a quick search told Connor before he calculated the breathing intervals.

"But you don't need to breathe." (Y/n) answered with an anxious smile.

"Do you really believe now is a fitting time to make jokes about my nature, or presumably your own death?"

Stress level: 75% 

"No, sorry." She shook her head. Connor began breathing, watching (y/n) closely as she began imitating his rhythm.

Stress level: 60%

Her body slowly relaxed against Connor's grip on her shoulders, leaning into it.

Stress level: 50%

"Good." The deviant added with a soothing smile, opting to brush his thumbs atop her shoulders to calm her down. "Keep it up."

Stress level: 35%

"Thanks." (Y/n) finally breathed out and returned to standing on her own teo feet.

"So, what is the plan?"

"Furst things first, um...we...we're going to the boat, taking weapons with us." She stuttered out, then took a final, deep breath, calming herself. "As well as all my savings and Xylo, then we're going to Zlat's. Dropping Xylo off there along with the old coat, and after that we're running away."

"How?"

"Underground. There's no signal there."

"Where to?"

"New Jersey, I've got some family friends there."

"By foot?" Connor asked skeptically.

"Only until we get out of Detroit." (Y/n) said, then shrugged. "We'll figure something out after that. Do you know how to drive?"

"I am able to, as long as I'm familiar with the car model."

"Good, because I'm a shit driver, but damn good at stealing." 

-

They had rushed to the boat, where (y/n) had practically loaded him with guns (a total of three), packed her backpack with clothes and her savings, then taken Xylo with them.

The little dog was wagging his tail, wriggling around in (y/n)'s arms as she was locking the entrance to the boat.

"As far as I remember, Zlatko's residence is roughly 7 kilometers away." The deviant spoke up, taking the dog out of her arms to ease the process.

"Yeah. We're taking the bus. Pull up your hood."

Connor did as she asked of him, quickly adjusting the clothing article then looking over at her, realizing she had done the same thing. 

Stress levels: 45%

"How are you feeling?" The deviant asked as he trotted beside her, keeping his gaze glued on her. They took a sharp turn to the left, into a crowded street.

"Fine. I'm fine." (Y/n) said firmly.

Not fine. Connor concluded with another scan of her stress levels. Xylo wiggled against him, and Connor undid his coat in the slightest to be able to bring in the little animal closer and hide him under it.

The dog nuzzled his head against his mustard shirt, and let a small playful growl out. The deviant couldn't help but smile.

"Do you wish to hold him?" He asked a few seconds later, gazing at (y/n). "Animals are good stress reducers."

"No, we...not now. Where- There it is, Jesus Christ." She mumbled, tiptoeing to be able to locate something-the bus station, Connor realized. "This way, come on."

(Y/n) turned around to grab his free hand and pull him after her, through the crowd of people. So colorful, Connor noted with a glance at his surroundings. So much more colorful than the old Detroit he used to know.

Especially when the sun went down.

That was when the buildings shed their grey exterior and bathed in the most harlequin neon lights. Just like (y/n). As soon as she had shed her rough, snarky exterior and revealed her true nature.

"This one." (Y/n) whispered to him, nodded at the bus and quickened her steps, practically dragging him after her into the vehicle.

Soon enough after they had gotten on, it started moving.

Xylo seemed to remind (y/n) of his presence and let out a high-pitched ding! ,muffled by Connor's jacket.

"You need to calm down." The deviant instructed and took out the dog, holding him in front of (y/n). "Take him in your arms."

"I told you, I-"

"You've looked out for me, I'm looking out for you. Most humans call it reciprocating. Now hold Xylo." Connor explained, watching (y/n) as she reluctantly took her pet and held it close, brushing her hand over the top of his head, scratching him behind his left ear. "As long as I'm functional, you will not be harmed, you have my word."

She smiled at the dog, then at Connor. There was a certain sad something in her expression, a slight crease under he brows, a glint in her eyes.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome." 

She sighed and placed a loving kiss on the top of Xylo's head, then booped his nose. She looked at him weakly, then held the pet closer, blinking away what seemed to be...tears?

"I'm gonna miss you, little guy." (Y/n) whispered to the dog, then ran her hand over his fur, almost holing him like a baby.

"You'll come back for him, though, correct? Then there's no reason to grieve."

"Of course there is." (Y/n) laughed bitterly. "What if we don't make it?"

"We will." Connor said firmly, as if to assure both himself and (y/n). Truth be told, he didn't know. He really didn't.


	26. Chapter 26

Connor wouldn't have expected to feel a rush of nostalgia for things that happened only a few days ago-but he did.

He remembered the entrance to the underground so vividly-where (y/n) had made him put the coat on, then dragged him out into the open.

The moment he had come to know such a wonderful, mesmerizing yet dangerous new world.

"Stay close, I don't want you getting lost." (Y/n) whispered to Connor with a weary, nervous smile, then nodded for him to follow her underground.

Connor trotted behind her, doing another quick scan of her stress levels, satisfied to find out that they were at a steady 30%.

Minutes of wandering through the dark later, taking a few sharp twists and turns, (y/n) stopped in front of an improvised door and looked at Connor, who had almost bumped into her. Zlatko's lab. Or whatever it had been. 

"Ready?"

"Yes."

She took a deep, dragged breath, then knocked on the door, normally at first, then switched to banging her fist against it as soon as she realized that nothing was happening.

"Zlatko! Open up!" (Y/n) shouted, earning herself a confused tilt of Xylo's head.

Finally, the door opened, revealing the man behind it. In spite of his mechanical nature, Zlatko seemed somehow...tired. There weren't any grey shadows under his eyes, nor did he seem weak. Just exhausted.

"(Y/n)?" Zlatko squinted at her, his face seeming to drain of blood. "What are-"

"We wanted to give your coat back. And ask of you to take care of Xylo for a while, if that's okay."

"I-"

"He's a mecha dog, so low maintenance. All he needs is attention." (Y/n) insisted, then looked down at the animal in her arms. "Please. It's only temporary. I don't- I don't like this either."

Silence.

For at least five solid seconds, Connor approximated, realizing that he wasn't able to recall it specifically. It felt as if time had solidified, almost.

"Fuck, what am I even supposed to do?" Zlatko finally asked, yet it seemed he was speaking to no-one in particular. Aside from his neon glasses, which flickered blue for just a millisecond.

(Y/n) didn't seem to plan on backing down, judging by her posture. Shoulders rolled back to appear more imposing, feet initiating a step towards Zlatko, chin held up high.

"Just let him stay here." She demanded, then rushed to rephrase her sentence. "Please, Xylo's so small, I couldn't...I'll pay you, if that's what you want."

Zlatko surely had a knack for silence, Connor decided this time. Or was just really slow with words. He couldn't be decide between the two possiblities.

"No, I...I want something else." He began, somewhat perturbed, then looked at Connor. "The deviant."

His stomach did a flip at Zlatko's words, or at least that was the impression he got from it. What was he planning on doing with him? Sell him? Experiment on him? Connor decided to scan his surroundings for the quickest (and hopefully safest) escape route.

"Not a chance." (Y/n) growled before Connor could even speak up. "He's not some kind of fucking product."

"Now that's a sudden change of heart." Zlatko held back a mocking laugh. "I thought you were gonna sell it on the black market."

Connor heard (y/n) scoff visibly.

"And I thought you were going to be helpful, but here we are." There it was again-that snarky mask she seemed to enjoy putting on. "Any other deals in mind?"

"I want to take a look at it." Zlatko insisted, nodding at Connor.

"At what exactly?" The young woman asked, her grip around Xylo tightening as she shifted the animal in her arms to be able to hold it up with one hand only, and reached to the back of her belt to grab her gun with the other.

"The deviancy virus. I want to connect him to a device and look at its coding."

That was...somewhat reasonable.

(Y/n) grunted audibly, then turned around to look at Connor. "Your call."

Connor balled his hands into fists at his sides, jaw tightening as he processed it. Did he really have a choice? He wanted what was best for (y/n), and for Xylo. He genuinely cared for them.

If letting some old junkie take a look at his coding was all that it took, he'd be willing to do it.

"Alright, yes." He nodded curtly. "I agree to your proposal."

Zlatko frowned and rubbed his hands together in thought, then nodded for Connor and (y/n) to follow him inside the bunker.

"Weapons at the entrance." The man added. "Or we're not even talking, much less going through with the deal."

(Y/n) literally growled under her breath, then dropped two handguns to the floor while sending death glares in Zlatko's direction.

"All of them. I know it has some weapons on it too." He looked at Connor, scoffing in his direction before making his way into the main room.

Connor dropped all three guns, then followed the man into the main room, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at (y/n), who had put Xylo down.

She appeared inside the room a few seconds later, followed suit by the little dog, who was walking around her.

Connor saw the tables he and (y/n) had laid on when he had first woken up, and the device he had been connected to.

A message was prompted up on the lens of his glasses: 

Memotransmitter.  
Year of production: 2059. 

An electric shiver crawled down Connor's spine as he was pushed away from the tables, towards a rather imposing platform with robotic arms attached to it. It had once been white, and presumably shiny-at the moment, the elastic joints of the arms had aged and cracked at the edges, plastic turned a light gray. Not exactly inviting.

"Get on." He was told, and (y/n) quickly chimed in.

"What is that supposed to do?"

"Access his coding." Zlatko answered with a displeased grunt, moving towards a keyboard beside the big machine.

"And what does accessing his coding imply?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because he belongs to me."

"Oh drop the act, (l/n). It's so fucking obvious that you've gone soft for this..." He nodded at Connor, look of disgruntlement on his face. "This thing."

Connor could notice her muscles tense, like a coil ready to snap. But she didn't say a word.

Connor felt something grip his wrists-and realized that it was the old robotic arms, moving his hands above his head, pinning them there.

Another mechanical hum could be heard before something was attached to Connor's spine, right between his shoulder blades.

"He agreed for you to take a look at his programming, not some weird BDSM fantasy, you sick fuck." 

"That's how accessing an Android's software works." The man answered, then dedicated his attention to a screen nearby, squinting at it.

Zlatko hummed silently in...revelation, or something of the sort, Connor deduced, then mumbled something to himself.

"What?" (Y/n) was quick to trot beside the man and stare at the screen as well, in spite of probably not understanding even a thing.

Zlatko stepped away from the screen, dragging out an exhale before speaking up.

"It's been fun, you two."


	27. Chapter 27

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" (Y/n) raised her voice, anxiety readable from nothing but her expression. 

Connor moved his arm, only to realize it had been immobilized by the old machine.

Fuck.

There was nothing he could do.

"If it helps you get over it, I'll have you know that I received quite a convincing amount of money for this." Zlatko stepped away from the keyboard languidly, satisfied little smirk tugging on the left corner of his mouth.

(Y/n)'s entire frame was shaking with anxiety before her gaze quickly found Connor's. The deviant didn't even have to say anything, she had already darted towards him, reaching for the robotic arm.

"Back. Off." The click of a gun could be heard before one was pressed to her temple by none other than Zlatko himself.

Pupils blown wide with fear, she let go of the old plastic, and stepped away from Connor slowly.

"Okay, Zlat." She cautiously raised her hands above her head as if to prove her innocence. "I don't know what the fuck you've gotten us into, but I can get you anything you want. As much Axy as your heart desires. I can get y-"

The gun was rammed against her temple.

"If there's one thing I learned from feisty little brats as yourself it's that working with the big guys pays off." Zlatko growled, sliding the weapon's barrel away from her temple, over her face, pressing it to her lower lip.

She drew in a strangled, fragile breath, eyes glazed with fear, focused on the ceiling.

"Zlatko, please. I don't know wha-"

The lab door bursted open.

Mikolaj. Freya, too, accompanied by the two doberman dogs, and none other than...Odin.

What...

"Mikolaj!" (Y/n) cried out. "Holy fuck, please help, he's-" Zlatko shoved the gun into her mouth. The boy looked away, purposely avoiding both Connor and (y/n)'s glances.

The deviant's metaphorical guts twisted in fear, hands pinned above his head balling into fists. Mikolaj wasn't going to help them, was he?

"I see you've been efficient, Zlatko." That dulcet, raw voice again. Odin. "You've immobilized both of them. Well then, guess there's no need for violence after all. Mikolaj, would you be so kind as to deactivate the deviant and prepare him for transport. Freya, take out Velox."

The young man grunted in approval and approached Connor.

If the deviant would've been able to spit in his face, or spit at all, he probably would have. It really had been Mikolaj behind all of it after all. And Odin. (Y/n)'s gut feeling had been right. He should've been faster. More efficient. He should've been the one protecting her!

Connor scanned his surroundings, unable to come up with any other options. The only one blinked with big, bold letters in his vision, right above his head.

『NEGOTIATE WITH MIKOLAJ』

Changing the boy's mind was his best bet.

"Why?" Connor opted for a more calculated approach. There was always the chance of unlikely events taking place, he told himself.

Yet Mikolaj didn't even bother to answer Connor's question, instead, gripped the hem of the deviant's shirt.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

A throaty groan of pain could be heard from the other side of the room. (Y/n). Freya had gripped her arms and immobilized her by twisting them behind her back.

"Olesia, please! We're friends. We- You don't have to do this! Please don't-" Her eyes drifted to Connor, then to Mikolaj, who began lifting up the deviant's shirt, reaching for the Thirium pump. "No! Mikolaj! Mikolaj don't you dare fucking touch him! Mikolaj Alfons Jasko, do not-"

Her screams were ear-piercing, and she began kicking, shoving and pushing against Freya as she was dragged out of the lab.

"If you don't get your hands off of him this instant, I swear I'll-"

The sound of flesh and bones colliding, followed by silence. Zlatko had thrown a punch at her face, enough to make blood stream out of her nose.

"Someone needed to shut the bitch up." He justified.

Zlatko's statement was followed by a throaty drag of air from (y/n), and the sound of her spitting.

Blood mixed with saliva, running down the bridge of the man's nose.

"I'm not going down quietly, fucktard." She growled, straining against Freya's grip, her gaze and voice dripping with venom.

"Are you honestly going to let Freya kill her. After all you've been through?" Connor asked, looking at the boy's hand. Rested right above his Thirium pump, almost threateningly. "Are you going to kill me, as well? What are you going to gain from it? Acceptance? Money? Praise? What are you trying to achieve?"

"Shut up." The boy whispered, nails digging into the synthskin, around his Thirium pump.. "Shut up, please."

"You can kill me, I won't protest." Connor spoke. And he didn't. A grunt was the only thing that slipped past his lips as soon as Mikolaj had removed the pump regulator. Connor realized he felt...strangely calm for someone on the verge of dying. 

Vital biocomponent removed.

00 : 01 : 37 until shutdown

He inhaled throatily to cool down his systems, then continued. "But why her? If you let this happen, you won't be able to bring (y/n) back. She's not a machine. Her brain isn't numbers and algorithms. She's human, she-"

Connor hadn't even noticed Mikolaj pull the gun out of his belt. It happened faster than his highly functioning processors could understand. Next thing he knew, his audioprocessors reported a sudden, sharp sound of roughly 175 decibels. A fired gun.

The deviant could only watch Odin's suddenly lifeless, mechanical body drop to the floor like a puppet without strings, a bullet hole created straight through his right eye.

Freya seemed to freeze, eyes as wide as a deer's in front of headlights, almost boring another hole through the deadly wound in Odin's skull.

The woman drew in a desperate breath, letting go of (y/n), who dropped to her knees weakly, coughing up some more blood.

Freya rushed to the man's corpse, her stress levels practically exploding before she looked at Mikolaj and shouted accusingly:

"Zabiłeś go!" [tr: You killed him!]

The boy reached up to his head, backing away from Connor and looking at Freya fearfully.

"Pierdolić!" [Tr: Fuck!] Mikolaj spat and gripped his hair with one hand, the other wrapping around the gun more tightly. "Kurwa! Jest- Jestem-" [Tr: Fuck! I- I am-]

"You killed Odin!" She screamed at him again, desperation in her voice. "They're gonna kill us! We're fucked!"

Zlatko was already backing away to the lab door, palms up in submission as he did.

"Listen, Freya, this is your kid. I didn't have anything to do-" Zlatko began, only to be cut off by another small explosion, of once again roughly 175 decibels.

That was all it took for Zlatko to shut up too. This time, Mikolaj had shot the man's forehead.

"Miko. Miko, look at me." (Y/n) spoke up from the other side fo the room, slowly approaching the boy.

He rushed to point the gun at her too. His entire lithe frame was shaking.

"Put the gun down. It's alright. It's alright. We've got time until anyone finds out. We can think this through."

Connor bit his lip to stifle a grunt of pain. His vision was going red, pulsating in spite of his missing pump.

00 : 00 : 46 until shutdown

"(Y/n)..." He called out, voicebox fluctuating, allowing nothing but a broken whisper to leave his mechanical lungs.


	28. Chapter 28

Connor didn't have the necessary energy to make another stress level scan, but he could already tell the (y/n) was quite injured.

He rung for air, unable to inhale it and cool his systems. Innumerable messages popped up in his vision.

He wouldn't have suspected that his last thought would be a wish. A wish to hold her just one more time, to watch her sleep peacefully once more, to hear her laugh.

Deviancy truly did make him...clumsy. Or maybe it had been (y/n), how could he know?

Perhaps a combination of both.

His synthmuscles relaxed, and finally, Connor could understand what humans considered peaceful about dying. It was relieving, in a sickening way.

Connor heard (y/n)'s voice, yet was unable to make out her words.

00 : 00 : 09 until shutdown

His eyes fluttered closed, and he gave up. He didn't bother trying to cool down his systems anymore. To find (y/n) with his gaze. To ask for help.

This was far more peaceful than shooting himself.

Just like going into standby. Warm, soft, inviting.

He could breathe.

Connor would've considered it a fantasy if it weren't for the message in his vision.

Core temperature: -2 degrees

And for the hands cupping his face.

"Connor! Connor!" 

He could inhale. And exhale. Feel. Hear. Smell. Smell blood.

The deviant forced his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was a hand rested atop the area between his chest and abdomen, stained with both blue and red. And his Thirium pump inserted back into place. 

"Connor, look at me." 

He did.

Blood was running out of (y/n)'s nose, over her lips, down her chin, onto her shirt, eyes glazed with tears.

"Fuck, you're okay. You're okay." She repeated the sentence to herself, stroking her thumbs over Connor's cheekbones. "Fuck, I thought we were gonna die."

The deviant tugged on the mechanical arms holding him up and looked at her, still unable to muster the power to speak.

She quickly complied and rushed to the keyboard Zlatko had used minutes ago. Seconds later, he was freed from the machine's grasp, and almost tripped on his way out of it. (Y/n) was quick enough to catch his forearm and give the deviant some much-needed support.

"Connor, oh my god." She whispered and pulled him into a hug. The devaint heard her sob against his shoulder, barely there. Reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around her too, and it felt right.

He did get to hold her once again.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of her neck, hands running up and down her back. He scanned her stress levels again, and tightened his grip around her as soon as he realized that they were drastically going down. (Y/n) was okay. She was okay.

"I thought-" Connor began, and suddenly felt ashamed. He hadn't thought anything except for how nice it would've been to hold (y/n) once more, then accepted his death. So easily. Without a second thought. Without considering what might happen to the others-he had been egoistic in the purest form.

He should fix that.

With one last tight squeeze around (y/n)'s frame, he let go of her, smiling at her confused expression. Frowning in the slightest, Connor reached up to her nose, starting to wipe off the blood with his sleeve.

"Are you in pain?"

"Not a lot. Bet it doesn't even compare to having your metaphorical heart ripped out, so I'm not about to complain." The young woman chuckled and grabbed his wrist, moving his hand away from her face. (Y/n) backed away, a look of sorrow painted on her face. 

Connor followed her gaze: Mikolaj was sitting on the tables he had woken up on, the boy's feet dangling off the ground. His hands were buried in his hair, gun rested in his lap.

Freya was sitting beside Odin's corpse, muttering things to herself in a foreign language Connor recognized as Polish. How were they supposed to fix this?

"Miko." (Y/n) spoke up, slowly letting go of Connor and cautiously approaching the boy. "I need you to explain."

The emotional dam inside the young man practically exploded, tears streaming down his face."Explain what? That I shot my boss? And that the entirety of Detroit's scoundrels are gonna want me and my mom dead?! What is there to fucking explain-" His voice was shifty, broken and raspy.

"We need to come up with something." (Y/n) interrupted him, and looked at both Zlatko and Odin's corpses. "Odin wanted Connor, right? To sell him. That's why he needed Zlatko to get rid of me and to immobilize him." 

The boy didn't bother answering.

"Mikolaj, please. Talk to me." She insisted.

"Yes, that was the plan." A female voice from the other corner of the room spoke up. "Odin figured you'd discover the tracker and decide to run away from a potential threat. And he figured you'd leave your dog with Zlatko. Or at least stop by to return the coat."

Freya.

She stood up from beside the man's corpse and dragged herself over to them, towards Mikolaj.

"Mikolaj. Wstań." [tr: Get up.] She spoke firmly, like an order, causing the boy to look up from his lap. "Daj mi broń." [tr: Give me the weapon.]

The boy obeyed hastily, and before Connor could process it, she ripped the gun out of Mikolaj's grip, walked over to Zlatko's corpse, then shot him in the face. Again. Again. Again.

She continued for at least fifteen seconds, then took a step backwards, as if she were satisfied with her work, and looked at (y/n).

"We'll say he shot him." She explained. "And no-one will know who it is. But now what?"

A few seconds of silence followed.

"You should take over." (Y/n) said. "Over Odin's business. You were the deputy. If there's anyone that has the right to do it, it's you."

"And what if someone finds out it wasn't?" Mikolaj growled from behind them. "What if-"

"Me and Connor were running away. You're free to join."

"Where to?"

"New Jersey."

The door opened.

Freya was quick enough to fire at it, and to cause whoever had stepped inside to duck before shouting a helpless, yet somehow strangely calm: "Don't shoot, I'm unarmed."

The silhouette stepped inside again, more cautiously this time. Tall, dark hair, dull eyes.

"Hey, I heard shots." He said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Vader?"


	29. Chapter 29

"Sure is." He answered with a shrug.

This boy was the definition of nonchalance, Connor concluded. Vader was literally standing in front of two corpses and didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

"I heard New Jersey." He added and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bad idea, I'm just sayin'."

"Fuck me, I can't even tell if you're clean or not." (Y/n) snorted, both mockingly and in amusement.

"Still in withdrawal at the moment." Vader explained. "Let's hope the 13th time's a charm, hm?"

Silence settled over the small room before he spoke up again. "So, New Jersey. Like I said, bad idea. Soon enough, everyone's gonna know what he really is." Vader nodded at Connor. "A lot of Odin's men already do. And trust me, they're shit at shutting their mouths. So if you wanna get rid of them, the best option is to go to Canada, or even another continent if possible."

"I don't have the necessary funds for either." (Y/n) drew in a desperate breath, then looked back at Vader. "What else, Ahad?"

"Well, there's...one last idea. Connor's technically a rarity, right? One of the last functional deviants. But what if we change that?" 

"I'm with you so far. How?" (Y/n) asked almost enthusiastically.

Vader puffed air in his cheeks, then glanced at (y/n). "To do that, we need to pick up a fight with the big guys."

"And what does that mean?"

"To put it short-infiltrate Cyberlife. The company that practically rules the world."

Connor drew in a shaky breath. He had done that before. It had ended...well enough. But that was 30 years ago.

(Y/n) smirked at both Vader and him. "Who needs to rule the world when you can just learn to deceive it?"

"I'm in." Mikolaj spoke up for the first time in minutes. "What's the plan?"

-

The purple Thirium of Zlatko's and Odin's bodies had mostly evaporated, and left only translucent, slick, shiny residues on the floor. 

Vader had left to get Pavel, meanwhile Freya, Mikolaj, (y/n) and Connor had stayed behind to guard the carcasses.

Mikolaj and Freya were talking something in Polish, almost unnaturally fast. Xylo had just popped out a hidden corner of the room, and Connor could only guess he had ran off to it while the whole shooting thing was happening. Poor thing. The white dog was sitting beside (y/n)'s feet, who was leaning her back against a wall, arms crossed over her chest, watching the dead bodies as if they could suddenly wake up. She did occasionally glance down at Xylo and reach down to pet him, but other than that, something seemed to be on her mind.

Reluctantly, Connor approached the young woman, struggling to seem as nonchalant as Vader had been, leaning against the wall beside her.

Only then did he realize his brain was practically blank regarding subjects. What could he even tell her or strike up a conversation? He had nearly died, and (y/n) was still struggling to make the residues of the blood dripping from her nose disappear. Neither of them were in a state to have some chitchat.

"This was terrifying." (Y/n) suddenly said, looking at the down sleeve of her coat in thought, which had changed color because of the blood, just a little more darker than the dry material.

"Yes. Yes, it was." Connor confirmed. "I'm sorry."

(Y/n) looked at him through her lashes, cocking a brow. "For what, Con? If anything, it's my fault."

"No, I...I gave up." His voice had shrunk down to nothing but a whisper. "In the last ten seconds before my shutdown, I accepted the fact that I was dying. I stopped trying. The last thing I wanted was to hold y-" He cut himself off with a hitched breath, and was more than glad his voicebox had malfunctioned.

"Hold what?"

"Unimportant." Connor shook his head as he slithered a hand inside the pocket of his coat, giving the bottle cap a flick, catching it, then gave it another flick. "What I was trying to say is that I...I regret giving up. I feel- I'm- guilt- I feel guilty." He stammered.

(Y/n) was silent for a few seconds, and Connor almost took it as a rejection of some sort.

"It's okay. You just got caught up. And I guess it's better to find some form of peace before you die, rather than...do it restlessly." She shrugged, then put her hand over his, stopping him from flicking the bottle cap. "It's not your fault. I'm just glad we both got out of this alive. I mean, I guess I could've fixed you, but it would've taken weeks. And Zlatko."

She squeezed his hand, then let go of it by brushing her fingertips over his knuckles.

"Thank you." He said, almost whispering.

"Nothing to thank me for, Con." She smiled and brushed her hand up his arm, straightening out the jacket, to the juncture of his neck, and finally to his jaw. "This sounds dumb, but I don't know where I'd be without you either."

God, her gaze. Quite possibly the most mesmerizing mess of colors he had seen, smudged eyeliner and run-down mascara at the corner of her eyes. So real. Human. Imperfect. This kind of natural anarchy was that special aspect about humans Connor realized he had grown to hold dear. He had grown to...hold (y/n) very dear as well, he realized. A quick thought popped into his head - love. Could he even say that? Consider himself capable of it? Consider feeling it for her?

He was a deviant, but love, love was something different. Strong, almost terrifying. He couldn't-

The second (y/n) moved her fingers to the back of his head to play with the short hair there and softly pull him closer, Connor realized that maybe love really was terrifyingly strong - but that he was more than willing to give it a try.

So he melted into her motions, lowered his head towards her own. Close enough to feel her breath on his cheeks, for the rebellious tuft of hair she had styled out of his formal hairstyle to brush against her forehead, close enough to feel her press against him. He warmth, her heartbeat, how her fingertips were slightly, but not uncomfortably cold on the back of his neck.

This was what he had longed for just seconds before his death.

The door opened with a loud, disrupting noise, and in stepped Vader, watching them with the same nonchalance, yet slight amusement as the two of them parted quickly.

"We got the car, and Pavel's outside, waiting. Let's go."


	30. Chapter 30

"Thank you, Olesia. I appreciate that so much." (Y/n) smiled at Freya, then gave her a quick hug.

"Don't mention it." She shook her head and huffed, then looked down at the fluffy dog beside (y/n)'s feet. "Munnin and Huginn already seem to like him."

Indeed, the two dobermans were curiously sniffing the smaller dog's fur, inspecting him from all angles.

"Be good, babyboy." (Y/n) kneeled down to pet Xylo and place a kiss on the top of his head, then backed away. The animal responded with a cheerful ring and a wag of his curled tail. Connor could've sworn he saw (y/n) wipe her eyes as she was rising back to her feet.

"Mom's the biggest dog person you'll ever meet." Mikolaj chimed in from one corner of the room, yet still refused to approach them. "He'll be fine."

"I know." She tried to stifle a sniffle, which however didn't go by unnoticed, at least not for Connor. He did want to be a part of this too, maybe pet Xylo once more, but it felt...strangely personal. He wouldn't want to interrupt...whatever this was.

"Let's go, Con. Ahad, Miko." The girl nodded for them to follow, which they did, except for Miko.

"You guys go on ahead." He said with a quick gesture. "I'll catch up."

They stepped out into the cold underground tunnels, both (y/n)'s and Vader's glasses flickering with purple to illuminate their path. Connor could've sworn he heard some faintly whispered words in Polish behind him, said in a bittersweet manner, alluding to a goodbye.

-

"Took you all long enough." Pavel said dryly as soon as (y/n), Connor and Vader had seated themselves inside the car. "Where's Miko?"

"Wanted to say goodbye to his mom. He'll be here in a few."

"What a momma's boy."

"At least he still has her." (Y/n) shrugged, then sunk down in her seat, and closed her eyes. "Fuck, I'm so tired." 

"Try not to fall asleep until we come up with a more explicit plan." Vader said, leaning forward to be able to catch a glimpse of (y/n), since Connor was sitting between them.

"Well, you said something about...uh...spreading the deviancy virus." (Y/n) massaged her temples, then glanced back at Vader. "That's gonna take a while."

"Not necessarily. I could try to...to hijack all functioning Androids through an internet connection. And forcefully plant the deviancy virus in their programming."

"Good. Do that right now." (Y/n) suggested. "Connor's with us, and Zlatko's lab is a few minutes of underground wandering away."

"Yeah, here's the thing." Vader said almost reluctantly. "I don't think Connor works like that. His model is too old. It's like- like trying to transfer something from an Iphone 17 to a Galaxy Note 39. Won't work, they're two different models, and the year difference is too big. You need to adapt it to the new version for it to work. After that, we can hijack all others with the new version of the virus."

"Okay, so what you're implying is..."

"I'll need a new Android model. To see what the computing and programming differences are."

"Okay, we can arrange that, I think." (Y/n) tapped her chin. "We need to infiltrate a Cyberlife factory, or something of the sort."

"Yeah. I'd say we find a small shop. But...we need to deactivate the alarms somehow."

"I think I'm able to do that. Or at least the RK series used to be, back in 2038. I can try." Connor spoke up. "But if I fail, then-"

The passenger seat door opened, and in plopped Mikolaj. He gave Pavel a nod, then looked at Vader, (y/n) and Connor through the rearview mirror.

"What were you talking about?" He asked as Pavel started the car and began driving away.

"Infiltrating some sort of place where we can find Androids. A Cyberlife store, or factory." (Y/n) explained. "Connor said he could try deactivating the alarms, but he's not entirely sure if he can."

"Hm...no. I'm a risk-taker, but this...it's something else. It depends entirely on Connor wether or not we succeed. And, no offense to you, but I'm not sure if I really wanna bet my life on an Android." Mikolaj said, then looked down at his hands, reaching up to his face to brush a finger over his lower lip. The devaint didn't comment about the boy's words. He had all the rights to not trust him. Mikolaj probably hadn't ever seen an Android, or a devaint for that matter. Perhaps he considered him unstable. Connor felt (y/n) tense beside him, and his left hand on the top of her thigh. 

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" (Y/n)'s voice had that sharp edge again as her gaze found Mikolaj's in the rearview mirror.

The Polish boy frowned.

"What if...what if we do it even more subtly than deactivating an alarm?" Mikolaj interjected after a few seconds. "Truck raiding. We raid a Cyberlife truck, then use it to carry us to a store or factory."

"You know what, that's actually the smartest and safest idea I've ever heard you come up with." Vader chuckled throatily from beside Connor. "I'm with you, Miko."

"I- Okay, yeah. Okay." (Y/n) stuttered out and leaned back in her seat. "We can do that. Connor? Pavel?"

"I agree."

Pavel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, but I'm not going with you. You do the stockpiling in the car, and I drive away after that. I don't want anything to do with this." The chubby boy explained hastily, his eyes darting from Connor, to (y/n), to Vader, and then to Mikolaj. "Honestly. I really don't like where this is going. You guys do your thing, but I won't be a part of it."

"Alright, Pav." Mikolaj sighed, then leaned back in his seat. "Let's go to a gas station, and buy some food. I'm starving. After that, the overpass, where we're gonna wait for a Cyberlife truck."

"Sounds good."


	31. Chapter 31

"Pull up your hoods or put on a hat, or whatever." Mikolaj advised as soon as Pavel stopped the car at a gas station. "I'm sure they have surveillance cameras."

"I'm staying in the car." Pavel answered coldly.

"Great."

"Don't need food." Vader shrugged. "I'll keep Mr Chub over here some company."

"Listen you Ken Doll with a brain implant, one more insult like that and-"

(Y/n) had already gotten out of the car and dragged Connor with her, pulling up both his and her hood.

It had started raining outside, the deviant noted with slight surprise. He hadn't encountered rain in a long time. Especially not in January-but there was always time for shitty weather, wasn't there?

The deviant stumbled after (y/n), cautiously following her inside the gas station. 

One inside, he realized it was warm. Almost uncomfortably so. The air was stagnant, presumably from an AC or something of the sort, which had been overused. Silent music he couldn't recognize was playing in the background, and he was pleased to realize that the whole place was empty aside from him, (y/n), and the cashier.

As well as Mikolaj, who had also stumbled inside the gas station seconds later.

"Let's see what we can find." (Y/n) mumbled to herself, starting to trot through the aisles, eyes skimming over the different kinds of food. Connor followed suit, scanning as many products as fast as he could.

(Y/n) had stopped beside the snack section, looking through all sorts of products.

So did Connor, until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Bacon flavored chips.

Almost reluctantly, he reached for them, took a deep breath. What the hell was he trying to do? He had no idea, honestly.

"What'd you find, Con?"

"Just...Just some...some..." He showed her the bag of chips, lopsided, nervous smile on his expression. "You mentioned that your first kiss was..." He found himself losing his words, voice fading.

A smirk of amusement tugged on (y/n)'s lips. Her lips which seemed so soft and inviting in a way Connor couldn't explain.

"Are you trying to insinuate something?" She chuckled. "You can just be straightforward with me, you know."

So he was.

He set the bag of snacks back on the shelf before reluctantly moving closer to (y/n), who wrapped one arm around his neck, and set the other on his chest, above his Thirium pump regulator.

A barely visible smile settled on her face as she whispered against Connor's jaw: "Your heart's beating so fast."

Connor closed his eyes, biting his lip, face coloring a soft hue of blue as he turned away from her.

"It's not...It's not a heart." He answered on the same, shushed tone, then glanced back at her bedazzled expression. "However it does simulate one accordingly, which includes speeding up its beating rhythm under the influence of emotions, or so I've noticed. The correct term would be a Thirium pump regulator. Biocomponent 8456w."

"God, you're such a nerd." (Y/n) smirked, then pulled him closer by the back of his nape. "I love it."

Connor opened his moth to answer, yet was pleasantly surprised to find (y/n) cupping his jaw gingerly, pressing her lips against his.

The feeling was electrifying. It swept all his thoughts into a pile, then made them disappear, leaving his processors blank, yet overworking at the same time.

She was soft, warm, everything she had tried to cover up when they first met. And it made him feel weightless, knowing that this side of her was for him, and only him to see.

It was clumsy, especially at first, but he eventually got the hang of it. And while he did make some small mistakes in the first few seconds, (y/n) had only whispered a breathy 'it's okay' against his cupid's bow, brushed her thumb over his cheekbone and urged him to continue with just a little more boldness.

He could see why humans did this.

And why they craved it.

He was almost disappointed when (y/n) parted from him, exhaling against his lower lip shakily.

"Gimme a sec, I'm all out of air." She murmured. Connor felt her press one last butterfly kiss to the corner of his mouth before finally taking a step back.

The deviant couldn't understand why exactly he had the sudden urge to smile, but he knew he was unable to hold back.

The girl had also taken notice of his radiant expression, similar to hers, and snickered.

"Come on, they're probably waiting for us."

-

They weren't. Pavel had nodded off, Vader was doing something on his Horomas, numbers and text flashing on the lenses, as well as small pictures.

And Mikolaj hadn't returned.

(Y/n) was sitting on the backseat, cross-legged, eating away at a granola bar, washing it down with water. Connor was seated right next to her, Memobottle cap on his index as he flicked it into the air every few seconds.

"I've found something." Vader announced all of a sudden, causing (y/n) to move her attention away from her food, and to the young man.

She hummed questioningly.

"I have the schedule for Cyberlife trucks, and when they deliver parts." He explained, then tapped the side of the neon glasses, numbers disappearing from his vision. He looked at (y/n) with a prideful smile. "I can go looking for the routes as well, and then we can calculate exactly when and where we can raid one."

"You're a genius, Ahad." (Y/n) responded with the same smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."


	32. Chapter 32

"Yo, this is so neat." Mikolaj remarked, looking over Vader's notes with some sort of admiration Connor failed to classify. "Seriously."

"It's basic 6th grade physics, my dude." Vader chuckled. "You know the time, and how long the entire path is." He moved to stand beside Mikolaj, back rested against the hood of the car, looking over the Polish boy's shoulders to accompany his explanations by pointing at his notes. "All there's left to do is calculate the speed, then at what time exactly the truck is gonna be passing by a specific location. Easy."

"Wait, so you divide distance by time, right?"

"Yup." Vader confirmed with a nod.

Connor stopped paying attention to their conversation. He could've done the calculations in mere seconds, and was fully aware of the theory behind it as well. Still, Vader had insisted on doing it the oldschool way, on a piece of paper and a pencil he had found in Pavel's car.

"How much longer?" (Y/n) interrupted his thoughts, having finished her second granola bar, crumbling up the packaging before stuffing it in her pocket.

After going to the gas station, they had found some free space by the roadside of the Cyberlife truck's supposed route, and calculated how much time they had left until one would show up.

"Roughly two minutes." Connor responded with confident precision. "I'd tell you the exact second as well, but considering the fact that this truck is supposedly controlled by a human driver, the time intervals may vary."

"Stop being so smart-assy, you're making me want to kiss you again." (Y/n) snickered, then scooted closer to him, resting the side of her head against his shoulder.

Connor furrowed his brows in confusion. Did that mean she didn't like...

"So I take it you dislike the fact that you sympathize me?"

"Sympath- What? No." (Y/n) shook her head. "I literally kissed you in a gas station, and you think I 'dislike the fact that I sympathize you'? And for your information, it's a little more than sympathizing."

"I just concluded it might be...confusing to feel attracted towards something that hasn't been human. Or is...only trying to be." He concluded with a synthetic sigh. 

"Where'd that come from?" (Y/n)'s brows furrowed in confusion as she moved her wrist to link with his, holding their hands together.

"The only relationships I know of you engaging in were with fellow humans. Mikolaj, for instance. I figured you must find it strange to..."

"What, Connor, no. No, I don't." Her tone was gentle, which was a rarity, however a welcome one. (Y/n) stroked her thumb over his palm. For some reason, the small gesture was inexplicably...soothing. "Honestly, I don't think there's anything weird about it. Not for me." (Y/n) shook her head. "You know what is weird though?"

"What exactly?" Connor asked with a tilt of his head.

"The fact that you know me and Mikolaj were a thing without me telling you." She chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, actually." Connor swallowed thickly to hide his embarrassment. "I- I heard Pavel mention that you were his ex-girlfriend."

"Oh. Well." It was (y/n)'s turn to cough awkwardly. "I mean- it didn't really last long to begin with. We work as friends but...not as more than that. And it was also partially because I had just started living on the streets back then and had no-one. Mikolaj, as Freya's son, could give me the necessary protection to ensure things would go as smoothly as possible. So I guess it was a combination of both aspects that made the whole thing...not work. The breakup wasn't particularly hurtful." (Y/n) shrugged nonchalantly. "Now you know."

"I appreciate that." Connor responded with a nod and a smile, watching (y/n) as she closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"I just...I...you're special to me, Con." She added with a smile against his jacket. "That's why I'm telling you all of this. Because I want- I don't know. I missed...something like this. And I want this to work. I care about you."

She squeezed his hand and sighed in contentment.

Connor wished, admittedly quite irrationally, that this moment would last forever. This closeness, this intimacy, this feeling.

Wonderful.

He responded with a squeeze of (y/n)'s hand too, before Vader spoke up.

"Get in the car!"

-

"I'm too tall for this. And I'm also the one that calculated the whole thing." The dark haired boy argued. "You should do your parts."

"I'm not about to risk my life for a fucking terminator." Mikolaj said, tossing up his knife into the air, causing it to almost hit the roof of the car before catching it by the blade. "I'm only here right now because I don't have another option."

"I could do it." Connor spoke up.

"No." It was (y/n)'s turn to speak. "He's never truckraided before, and he wasn't built for it either."

"I mean, if he does fall, it makes things easier for us." Pavel shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Before Connor could even step in, (y/n) had already ripped the knife out of Mikolaj's hand, accidentally slitting open the flesh of his palm while she was at it. The Polish boy hissed in pain, clutching the injured body part closer to his chest. (Y/n) didn't seem to care, instead moving to hold the bloodied blade at Pavel's throat. "One more fucking word like that and I'll make sure you'll be the one to fall, you pathetic, slimy jerk-off."

Pavel's grip around the steering wheel tightened, and Connor noticed his Adam's apple bob. "Okay, (y/n), calm down. 'Twas a joke."

She glued the blade to the juncture of Pavel's shoulder, and wiped Mikolaj's blood onto his skin, off of both sides of the knife.

The chubby boy endured it wordlessly, knuckles turning white, pupils blown wide with fear.

"I'll do it." She decided after making sure the blade was clean, taking it between her teeth.

"Wait, (y/n)-" Mikolaj chimed in, looking at her angrily while raising the injured hand up. Blood was oozing out of it copiously, seeping into the sleeve of his jacket. "I can't help you like this."

"I can." Connor said. "You go first, I'll be on the hood."


	33. Chapter 33

It did take some decent arm strength to be able to hoist oneself up onto the car roof, Connor noticed, especially as a human.

Him, as an Android, encountered no issues along the way, and thankfully (y/n), as someone experienced in these kinds of things, hadn't either.

The highway was almost empty, save for Pavel's car and the truck, considering the late hour. He felt more than thankful for that.

The wind, coming from the fact that they had both climbed onto the roof of a moving (and fast at that as well) car, was messing up the deviant's hair, and causing his optical units to malfunction in the slightest.

"Let me do it." Connor offered and nodded at the knife between (y/n)'s teeth. 

The young woman shook her head no, and before he could even protest, she cautiously moved towards the front of the car, sliding down the windshield, stopping on the hood.

She raised her hand, palm towards Connor, signaling him to wait before looking at Pavel through the windshield, nodding towards the truck.

Seconds later, the car sped up, the cold wind whipping against his cheeks now, cold and hot at the same time.

(Y/n) looked back up at Connor, smiling as well as one could while holding a knife between their teeth, then made the jump.

Quick, agile, precise, it looked like she had been made for it-Like some kind of cat, spider, or a combination between the two.

She took out the knife from between her teeth, holding onto a handle with one hand, lodging the blade into the small crack between the two doors. A grunt of frustration and a hearty push against it later, she had managed to force it open, took the blade between her teeth again and disappeared inside the vehicle.

Connor carefully approached the windshield, ducking down to find balance as he jumped onto the hood of the car.

Before he even knew it, (y/n) returned with the first package, and threw it at him.

He caught it, somewhat clumsily, clutching the box to his chest for a few seconds before turning around to hand it over to Mikolaj, who was already waiting for it on the passenger seat.

Rinse and repeat for roughly two minutes.

Until (y/n) peeked out from between the truck's backdoors, gesturing for Connor to join, then disappearing inside the truck again.

He made his way towards the front, ignoring the asphalt that dizzily and quickly disappeared under the car's bumper.

If he fell, this'd be the end.

There'd be no-one left to fix him.

Connor clenched his hands into fists, adjusting his posture, tensing his legs, preparing to jump.

He had to make it.

With one last glance at the small edge of the truck he should be landing on, rerunning his calculations, he jumped.

Only to realize someone had brusquely slowed down the car, and lengthened the distance between the two vehicles.

His calculations had been for nothing.

Even if he was going to make it, he wouldn't be able to regain balance. The space he was supposed to land on was too small, his jump too short.

"Got you!" (Y/n)'s voice suddenly rang in his ear, and he found himself being pulled inside the truck. 

He almost fell, yet the young woman was fast enough to give him all the necessary support needed to regain balance.

Connor wouldn't have ever thought standing on something sturdy would feel this soothing. He took a deep breath as (y/n)'s grip tightened on his arm.

She had raided just enough boxes to create a small space, barely enough to fit four people.

"What were you thinking? You could've fallen!" 

"Someone slowed down the car." He answered.

"Someone - what?" She whisper-shouted. "Pavel that-" (Y/n) inhaled shakily, perhaps in a hopeless attempt to calm herself. "Tell Miko and Vader to join us. Or stay, for all I fucking care. Jesus Christ, I-"

Stress levels rising again, she put her hand on the bridge of her nose, pinching it.

"I'm alright." Connor attempted to soothe her.

"You life was literally hanging on a string." She said, bit her lip, then let go of her nose. "Okay, it's okay. You're okay. This is fine. Fuck."

"I'll let them know that they should join us. Sit down somewhere and be quiet." Connor advised, gently setting a hand on (y/n)'s shoulder and pushing her down carefully, towards a corner created by the boxes.

After both Mikolaj and Vader had safely made it into the truck, Connor smiled at Pavel through the windshield, then shot one of the front wheels before disappearing inside the vehicle.

A fitting goodbye.

-

Connor estimated roughly 1 hour to have passed since he had boarded the truck. Mikolaj, Vader, (y/n) and him had all settled in one corner of the small space each, staying mostly silent.

"This dude must be deaf or something." Mikolaj spoke up, looking at his injured hand, readjusting the improvised bandage made from a piece of his shirt he had cut off. (Y/n) glanced at him apologetically, yet didn't dare say anything.

"Looks like it. He's still on the route to Cyberlife, as far as I can tell, so at least there's that." Vader announced, keeping his voice low. It sounded rather strange to hear him whisper, considering his already deep, throaty voice.

"What do we do once we get there?" (Y/n) asked.

"We'll be brought into the storage room, where they'll unpack the boxes, presumably in the morning. That gives us enough time to make our way outta there, to the rest of the facility. Unless...well, unless they're gonna unpack them immediately, in which case we're fucked."

"We die like men, Vadey." Mikolaj spoke up, tossing something at Vader. The other boy easily caught it. A gun. He handed another weapon to Connor. "And like Androids."

"Androids can't die." Connor clarified. "They're not alive. Just functional."

The deviant heard (y/n) huff in amusement, and looked at her, only to notice she was already watching him, a mix amusement and affection in her gaze.

"Should've told Pavel that before he slammed the brakes in the hopes of killing you." Mikolaj chuckled.

"I knew it! That fucker!" Came a growl from (y/n)'s corner. "So it was on purpose."

"Never underestimate an idiot." Vader smiled, white teeth flashing wolfishly in the dim light.

"I shot the car's front wheel. Does that make me an idiot?" Connor chimed in.

"Up for debate." Mikolaj decided.


	34. Chapter 34

"We're there." Vader whispered, blinking to adjust his eyes to the truck's dim light, seemingly almost blinded after he had taken off the Horomas.

"Already?" (Y/n) asked drowsily, then chuckled under hear breath. "Fuck, I almost fell asleep."

Mikolaj raised his hand, gluing his index to his lip, looking at all of them, then slowly rose to his feet, holding his gun in both hands.

He leaned against the truck's doors, pressing his ear against the surface.

"Ya hear anything?" Vader whispered.

"Yeah, um...what'd you say again?" Mikolaj asked, voice thin and shaky. "Right after we talked about uh- Pav. That idiots always underestimate others, or that one should never underestimate an idiot?"

"One should never underestimate an idiot." Vader clarified. "Why-"

"Well then, huh, guess that makes me an idiot." He smiled, concealing another emotion, one Connor couldn't understand-something stormy, deep-rooted and fearful. "You stay here. I'll go out, check if anyone's there. If I knock three times on the door, it means you're good. If not, then uh, not. I- It's been fun."

"Miko, hold on." (Y/n) spoke up. "Why are you...what's gotten into you?"

"I need to do something right." He whispered. "Don't get me wrong, this isn't about playing the hero for him." He nodded at Connor. "I'm not- I'm not a hero."

"You don't-"

"I want to." He answered, then swallowed visibly. "U-Um, one last thing."

"Yeah?"

"Tell Fr- Olesia. Tell mom I hope she's proud." He stuttered out, then slammed his shoulder against the truck's back entrance, jumping out through the small space between the two doors.

(Y/n) scrambled to her feet, gluing her frame to the wall, to avoid being spotted through the crack. Connor and Vader also did.

The deviant turned off his cooling fans, realizing his temperature was rising even faster than he could register it.

Silence.

Gunshots, far too many to be just Mikolaj's and another person's.

Seven, Connor counted.

Seven in total.

He felt (y/n) squeeze his forearm in fear. Her pupils were blown wide, breath stuttering, a tremor going through her body.

"Fuck." She whispered.

(Y/n) placed a hand over her own mouth, stifling a shaky inhale.

Vader wasn't doing much better either, pressed against the boxes of memotran bottles, jaw clenched.

One knock against the truck's door. Two. Three.

Forceful, skull-rattling.

The door swayed back and forth in the slightest under the force of the knocks.

"Well, do you plan on getting out of there? I've been ordered to keep the devaint functional, but there wasn't anything specified about human companions."

That voice wasn't Mikolaj's.

It was Connor's.

Coming from outside the truck.

While Connor was on the inside, right beside (y/n).

The air seemed unbearably hot for some reason, as if the deviant's cooling fans had ceased functioning. Who was that, with his voice?

"Connor model RK800, serial number 313 248 317 - 51, step out of the vehicle. My scanners have already detected your presence inside the Cyberlife Memotran truck, there is no use in hiding. And bring your mechanical and human companions with you. No sudden movements, or I will not hesitate to open fire on them and incapacitate you."

(Y/n) was the first one to move, admittedly quite reluctantly, towards the exit, palms up in submission, hopping out of the truck.

"Next." The voice demanded.

Connor obeyed, mimicking (y/n)'s movements. The Cyberlife storage room was massive, each and every one of his steps echoing because of its sole size, walls and floor painted in simplistic gray.

A broad-shouldered figure, roughly three inches taller than Connor, with higher cheekbones than him, and legs imposingly spread just enough to add to its dangerous appearance was standing in front of (y/n), holding a gun in one hand each. Android components. 

(Y/n) had tucked her hands behind the back of her neck, frame trembling, looking away from the Android, at something Connor couldn't recognize at first.

Among five other corpses of Cyberlife guards was also Mikolaj's-Mikolaj's corpse-collapsed right on top of hem, bullet-wound in the bridge of his nose, blood running down the side of his face, into his open, soulless eyes.

Connor stepped towards the intimidating figure, assuming a protective stance beside (y/n).

With a glance to his side, he finally realized why she had been trembling. She was crying, quietly, pain carved deep into her expression as she stared at Mikolaj's dead body. Tears streamed down her face, catching in the corners of her mouth, then falling down her chin. She was mouthing something, something Connor couldn't understand for the life of him. He wanted to offer a shoulder to lean on, or say some words that'd make it all a little more bearable for her, or something, anything. But he couldn't. Not when the gun the other Android had pointed at him.

"Next!" He shouted, voice almost a perfect copy of Connor's, yet empty, lacking of feelings. His face, compared to Connor's, also appeared more old and dominant, higher cheekbones, creases on the corners of his mouth and between his brows that made him seem like he was constantly frowning, hair salt and pepper instead of dark brown.

Vader also stepped out of the car, hands held above his head, doing his best to not glance in the direction of Mikolaj's corpse.

Until his curiosity got the best of him.

He moved to clutch his stomach, as if he were about to puke, then stopped brusquely when the clicking of a loading gun resonated in the huge storage room.

"Hands above your head." The Android said. "Unless you want me to shoot."

"You fucker." Vader growled. "You killed-"

"I killed the guards, nothing more. The death of Mikolaj Jasko is not something to hold me responsible for." He said, then gestured at (y/n) and Connor with his handgun. "Now move."

Vader oblidged, admittedly quite slowly, as if his movements had been tranquilized by the death of his friend.

As soon as the boy had joined Connor and (y/n), the Android stored one gun into a holster on the back of his belt, and held onto the other. He stepped in front of all of them, then began speaking.

"I am an Android model RK3000, or RK3K for verbal convenience. I have been designed by Elijah Kamski, I am the most advanced android thus far. I've been ordered to take the last functional deviant alive." He looked at Connor. "That would be you, RK800."


	35. Chapter 35

"If you refuse to cooperate I will incapacitate you and take you with me by force." RK3K added. "There's only one possible outcome to this situation. Wether or not you make the road leading to it difficult or not is entirely up to you."

"Where do you want to take me?" Connor asked.

"Elijah Kamski's private residence."

"And them?" Connor nodded at (y/n) and Vader.

"They're free to try and escape the Cyberlife facility or die trying."

"They're not-"

"No, they are not going to accompany you. These two humans are not part of my mission, and their fate does not affect me, nor you." The Android explained. "I believe we've talked enough, RK800."

He couldn't- (y/n) was all he had. He couldn't leave her. Not like this.

"Wait." Connor spoke up. "I- I want you to explain the whole plan to me. Thoroughly."

"We will have time for that as soon as we leave the facility. Put on one of the guards' clothes."

"I will cooperate if you explain it to me." Connor insisted.

RK3K looked at him in a manner Connor recognized all-too-well. He was scanning him for lies, identifying wether he was telling the truth or not. A few seconds of silence later, the Android furrowed his brows, then rolled his shoulders back in defeat.

"Very well." He said with a pause. "I must escort you to Elijah Kamski's private residence, where he will take a look at your coding, and attempt to replicate the deviancy virus and adjust it to new Android models."

"So he's not- He's not working with Cyberlife?" Vader chimed in.

"My sarcasm detectors are my only unperfected feature, however I'm led to believe that wasn't anything of the sort." RK3K turned his gaze at Vader, eyes icy and cold, yet perfectly calm. "So to answer your question, no."

"I have a better idea." Vader said, only to be interrupted by (y/n).

"What if Kamski could help us?" She said. "We have the same purpose as him."

"I'm sorry, but I-" The Android said, his clear diction suddenly lost. He was quick to regain it, however. "This is not part of the plan. I will escort RK800 to mister Kamski and that is final."

"I wanna talk to Kamski." Vader insisted. 

"That would most certainly lead to both his and our doom. The Horomas you would use to contact him could easily be localized by Cyberlife. I may have been able to lock down the storage room for now, however that won't hold back the entire company once they find out."

"You're underestimating me, 3K."

-

(Y/n) was leaning against the huge, dark grey wall, staring off into nothing, purposefully avoiding to look at Mikolaj's corpse, Connor had noticed after a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Vader was pacing around the storage room, followed suit by RK3K, talking to Elijah Kamski on his Horomas.

It had taken them roughly ten minutes until they had come to a conclusion.

"We won't be escaping the Cyberlife facility. Instead, we'll be infiltrating it even further, to the production chambers of Androids." RK3K had explained hastily. "That's where Ahad will find all the necessary equipment to access RK800's coding and, with the guidance of mister Kamski, configure it. As soon as we do that, Elijah will access that particular model's coding, download it, and finally, in about a week's time, dispense it to all functional Androids."

"They're all going to be deviants." (Y/n) smiled at just the thought. 

"Precisely." RK3K said, walking away from Connor and (y/n), towards the dead bodies of guards.

"Well then, what're we waiting for?" She asked, and shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Nothing. We're leaving in thirty seconds." 3K said, picked up two assault rifles and threw one at Connor.

The deviant caught it easily, checking to see if it was fully loaded.

It was.

He looked over at (y/n), offering her the weapon. She shook her head and raised one hand dismissively. "I'll stick with my handgun, thanks."

An almost inaudible click rang out all around them, to which RK3K added: "I've just unlocked the doors."

"Are you ready?" Connor asked, glancing at (y/n), who had just finished loading her handgun.

"When am I ever not ready to get into trouble?" She smirked at him through her lashes and laughed through her nose.

"Well then." The deviant concluded, holding the rifle 3K had given him against his diaphragm. 

The Cyberlife tower was structured to be confusing, he was sure of that much. Immaculate, white corridors, milky plexiglas doors that only allowed the naked eye to see mere shadows of what exactly was on the other side. There were scanners beside each door, through which RK3K had guided them easily, seeing as he was using an ID card he had stolen from one of the guards.

The newer Android was making his way through the corridors confidently, as if he knew the way through all of them, which Connor suspected he actually did. The layout had changed drastically since the deviant had infiltrated Cyberlife almost thirty years ago.

He could only guess it was supposed to prevent something of the sort ever happening again, but here he was. Breaking past their defense once again.

Suddenly, RK3K raised his hand up, stopping in front of a particularly big glass door. He glanced at Connor, (y/n) and Vader, then gestured at his gun.

He then mouthed something among the lines of "first" and pointed at himself. After that, he pulled out the ID card, and added silently. "Barricade." And nodded at Vader.

After that, Connor saw the Android's synthmuscles tense, like a coil ready to snap. 3K cautiously brought down the ID card in front of the scanner, and the doors opened.

He lunged into the room, and gunshots followed.

(Y/n) removed the safety lock, and was the first one to step inside the room, in spite of Connor's silent protests.

Three corpses, of guards once again, and RK3K standing beside them, wiping some blue blood off of the side of his mouth.

They were in the production room of Androids, it seemed, which included a building area, with two, white robotic arms handing from the ceiling and a heavy duty conveyor belt leading away from it, into a separate enclosure.

"Ahad, barricade." RK3K commanded, nodding at the door they had come through.

"I'll find an Android." (Y/n) said.

"Good." 3K nodded. "800, help her. I'll get the tech equipment ready."


	36. Chapter 36

"What about this one?" (Y/n) asked and nodded at an Android with dark hair styled into a bun, round cheeks and a heart-shaped face with gentle green eyes.

AX800.

"Yes." Connor said. "That could work."

The deviant put his hand on top of the box the Android was packed in, then glanced at (y/n). "Do you have a knife?"

"Yeah. Mikolaj's. I- Here." She seemed to stifle a sniffle, then handed it to Connor.

He had to fix this. Somehow. But he didn't even know where to start. They were in the middle of the Cyberlife tower, hiding behind a virtual barricade. There wasn't much he could say to help ease the process of grieving.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Con." Her voice was almost a broken sob. "I did this. All of this. If I hadn't found you, if I hadn't paid Zlat to fix you, if I had-"

"I wouldn't want any of that." He admitted. 

"You must be really masochistic to think infiltrating Cyberlife is fun, huh?" She snickered through the tears that had started to stream down her face.

"No, I- I appreciate that I get to do it with you." Connor explained. "Thank you. For all of this. For bringing me back. For taking care of me to the best of your abilities."

He heard (y/n) laugh to her nose.

"I should be the one thanking you." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "But...We, we probably don't have time for this. We should-"

He didn't know what got into him. He only knew that wrapping his arm around (y/n)'s frame, pulling her in close and placing a quick peck on her lips was the right thing to do.

"Just in case." He whispered against her mouth, feeling it curve into a smile. Just in case he wouldn't get to do this again, he mentally added.

"Okay." She answered and returned the chaste action quickly. Connor could taste traces of her tears on his lips.

Once they had freed the AX800 from her packaging and made sure to keep her from restarting, they dragged her to the robotic arms with the generous help of 3K.

"RK800, join the AX800." RK3K commanded and nodded at the robotic arms. Connor moved to stand beside her, gluing his arms to his sides. 3K turned towards (y/n), holding one of the devices Connor had woken up with plugged into his nape. "Connect that to him."

"On it." She answered and easily caught the device when 3K had tossed it at her.

"Go into stasis mode, Kamski said that'd make Ahad's work easier." The Android ordered, then strode over to Vader, who was kneeling in front of a computer, typing in something hastily, then looking at Connor.

"I won't let anything happen to you." (Y/n) promised as she walked around Connor, to stand behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly, soothingly. "I'll be there when you wake up."

"Thank you." The deviant answered and swallowed visibly, closing his eyes. 

『 ▹INITIATING STASIS MODE 』

The last thing he felt was (y/n)'s hand on his shoulder and metal piercing through the back of his neck.

-

Waking up should've been something slow, comfortable.

It wasn't.

Not for Connor.

His ears rang loudly, optical units unable to adjust to his white surroundings, his entire body numb.

"He's up!" He heard (y/n)'s familiar voice shout. That was enough to supply him with just the needed amount of determination to finally open his eyes.

Her pupils were blown wide in fear, hands bloodied with deep crimson, one of them rested on his cheek, the other, clutching her handgun.

"Come on, Con!" She gave him a soft shake, just enough to finally wake him up.

"Did we succeed?"

"Yeah, we did. But they broke past the barricade. There's more on the way." She explained and took a step back. Vader was waiting by the door, holding two rifles. 3K was lying on the floor. Deactivated. Shot in multiple places, the final blow being in the middle of his chest. His Thirium pump regulator must've been damaged. "We gotta hurry." (Y/n) added, positioning herself to be able to rip out the device out of the nape of his neck. Her every movement heavy with fear as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the exit.

Before he even knew it, Vader had handed him one of the rifles.

After that, everything became a blur of the perfect white of the facility, the black of the guards' suits, and red.

"It's hopeless." (Y/n) remarked between hasty breaths, sprinting beside Connor and Vader. "We're out of ammo. This place is a maze, and we don't know what is where."

"We'll find the exit." Vader insisted. "Or we'll die trying. Fuck, hah, some Axy would be great right now. Got any?"

"What makes you think I have drugs on me while I'm infiltrating the most influential American company's residence?" She laughed through her nose, between ragged breaths.

"Felt like I should ask." He answered. "Might as well keep things lighthearted while we're running for our lives."

"Stress reduces the average performance abilities in humans, so it's a rather good idea to do so."

A snicker escaped the boy's mouth. "See? Smartypants agrees with m-"

And then Vader was shot.

Right through his forehead, and the boy collapsed to the floor.

(Y/n) stopped in her tracks. "Oh shit." She brought her hands up to her mouth. "Oh shit oh shitohshitohsh-"

Whoever it was that had shot Vader, they had to be nearby. Connor couldn't afford staying there.

So the deviant did the only reasonable thing he could think of. Grabbed (y/n)'s forearm and dragged her with him, away from her dead friend's corpse. The third one to die.

He was staring to believe that they were next.

Scratch that, he was sure of it.

The probability was incalculably high, he was going to die. (Y/n) was going to die. All because of...deviancy.

Stupid, fragile little thing it was. A virus, an anomaly in his software that made him able to feel things. And yet people wanted him dead for that.

"Con." (Y/n) stopped in her tracks, and nodded at another door.

Connor was quick to open it and drag the both of them inside, then seal it behind them.

It was a small storage room of some sorts. Metal shelves all over the walls. (Y/n) had stopped in the middle of it, elbows rested on her thighs, ringing for air.

Connor put his hand over the scanner. If Vader had been able to barricade something of the sort, he could try too, right?

He kneeled beside the door and closed his eyes.

Indeed, he was able to connect to it. In a way.

Let through: Guard IDs, Engineer IDs, CEO IDs.

Let through:...

Let through: none

Deny access.

"I did it." Connor concluded. "I sealed the door."

"There's no other way out." (Y/n) said, her voice sounding unusually shushed. She was right. He had both ensured their safety and what may have just been their certain doom.

"Maybe they won't notice we're in here." Connor said, despite knowing that was highly unlikely. They'd find them. At one point.

"Let's be realistic here." She said, dragging herself into one of the room's corners, resting her back a against the wall, sliding down until she was hugging her knees.

She was right. Silence settled between the two of them.

"I'm sorry." Connor finally spoke up.

"Nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault everything's gone to shit." She shrugged, then looked at him before patting the floor beside her. "Sit with me."

Connor reluctantly did as she asked. He wanted to find a way out of this. Some kind of answer to solve it. But there wasn't. There was no answer to this, except for them ending up dead.

He padded over to her, settling dow beside her.

"I wouldn't have ever thought it would end up like this." (Y/n) muttered, scooting closer to Connor. "But...you did it, I guess."

"What exactly?"

"You brought back deviancy." (Y/n) leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling her face against it. "You've made a legacy."

"We've made a legacy." He said. "You, me, Mikolaj, Ahad. All of us."

"Doesn't feel that grand to go down like this." She admitted while reaching for his hand. Connor intertwined their fingers and gave her hand a loving squeeze.

"Why do humans feel the need for some sort of grandeur? We've accomplished something, regardless of how it ends. They can't change that." Connor felt, for the first time, the need to sigh. And he gave in. It felt good. Relieving. 

(Y/n) smiled bitterly. "That's a nice way to see it." She tilted her head backwards, leaning it against the wall behind her. And caught sight of something, right on the top shelf.

A Memobottle, Memotran kit included.

She glanced at Connor, who was staring at it as well, then suddenly blinked quickly.

"I have an idea." He said and jumped to his feet. "I can- I can be fixed. Death isn't permanent for me. But I can make that possible for you as well."

"You want to transfer my consciousness into a Memotran bottle?" (Y/n) laughed to her nose, then stopped abruptly. "That's- That's actually a good idea."

"Explain how it works." Connor demanded as he tiptoed to be able to reach it.

"Well, conscience isn't something you can, um, replicate. Just transfer. If you put me into that bottle, I won't be able to stay aware at the same time. If I do this transfer thing, it's game over for my body. And all my thoughts, and feelings and memories are gonna be in...that little bottle." She nodded at the Memotran kit. Connor could notice goosebumps form on her skin. 

"Is that terrifying to you?"

"Strange." She clarified.

"I can work with strange." Connor answered and kneeled down in front of her, unpacking the box's contents.

The kind of device they had used when Ahad had accessed his programming. A bottle. And a cap, a replica of the one (y/n) had gifted Connor.

"Do you want to do th-"

Connor was interrupted by the sound of something, or, more precisely, someone slamming against the plexiglas door.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go through with it. There's nothing to lose." (Y/n) said, and sat up.

"Alright, what do I do?" Connor asked.

"Give me that." She pointed at the device with three spikes. "And prepare the bottle."

Connor unscrewed the lid, and looked inside the recipient. It was too dark for him to recognize anything specific, but he could see wires and LEDs blinking inside it.

A pained huff from (y/n) was what drew his attention back to her.

"Fuck, I can't do this." She admitted, hand with the device hovering over the back of her neck.

"Let me help." Connor offered, setting his hand over hers. Slowly, he began adding pressure, watching the three needles of the object pierce her skin.

"Wait. Wait." (Y/n) said, voice so utterly meek and shaken up, Connor immediately stopped.

"What is it?"

"When you almost died. Back at Zlatko's. What- What was the last thing you wished for?"

"To-" Connor stuttered out, unable to find his words. He could only stare at (y/n), trying to process the fact that he may never see her again. Hear her again. Feel her stay close like this. "To hold you."

"...Really?" She asked, but it didn't sound sarcastic. Only disbelieving. "That's...wow. That's an altruistic wish."

"I find it rather egoistical." 

Another ear-numbering boom! rang out against the sealed door.

"Doesn't matter. Is it okay if I go full copycat and say I wanna do the same?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." Connor sat down, resting his back against the wall. (Y/n) crawled up to him, laying her head on his chest, then guided his hand to the nape of her neck.

"Thank you." Connor felt her throat bob against his chest as she swallowed thickly, beginning to increase pressure over the device again. "Shit, let's get this over with."

Connor obliged, and applied just enough force to make the needles pierce through the flesh.

Nothing but a stifled grunt of pain and a tremble came from (y/n). She cuddled her face into his clavicle, clutching his mustard shirt.

"Put the other end...in the Memobottle." She instructed, and Connor rushed to do that with one hand, using the other to brush over her hair soothingly.

"Done." He announced.

"Great. Should take only a minute and I'll be outta here." She smiled. "It's been fun. Fuck, scratch that, it's been...wonderful."

"I agree." Connor rested his chin on he top of her head, continuing his soothing movements.

This time, someone had tried to shoot the door. Idiots, didn't they know what plexiglas literally implied?

"Hey Con, you believe in afterlife?"

"The Afterlife is an overrated concept." He answered concisely. (Y/n) chuckled against his chest in response.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." She reached out to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. After that, she added bitterly. "Guess it's time to say goodbye." 

"Take your time." Connor said. It was the last thing he could try to give her. Comfort. Love.

"Bye Xylo." (Y/n) whispered. "Bye Mikolaj, bye Ahad, bye RK3K. Bye mom. Bye Olesia. Bye Odin, and Zlatko and Pavel, you suckers."

She chuckled against Connor's collarbone weakly. 

"And bye Connor." She concluded.

"No need for that." The door emitted a beep. They were trying to hack it as well, it seemed.

As soon as he looked back down at (y/n), he realized she was already gone. With shaky hands, Connor moved her closer to him, placing a kiss on her hairline. After that, he took the Memobottle.

And decided to seal it with the cap she had given him. For sentimental reasons, he supposed.

And after that, lifted his shirt just enough to take out his Thirium pump regulator and place the Memobottle inside the orifice.

Time until shutdown: 00 : 00 : 30.

"This is our legacy."


End file.
